Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills
by charmedlion22
Summary: Let me tell you a story. One about a girl. A once ordinary girl, who lived a once ordinary life. But one night, when a full moon reigned the sky, everything changed. And this once ordinary girl discovered nothing is as it seems. *Rewritten story*
1. Wolf Moon

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way, but it'll mostly stick with canon. The first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all.**

* * *

_Let me tell you a story. One about a girl. A once ordinary girl, who lived a once ordinary life. But one night, when a full moon reigned the sky, everything changed. And this once ordinary girl discovered nothing is as it seems._

* * *

I stare out my bedroom window, looking up at the full moon. Across the street, the light in my best friend's room is still on, though his blinds are closed. Stiles Stilinski has been like a younger brother to me for as long as I can remember, my dad a deputy for his father. He's one of my best friends, my crime-solving partner. He, Scott McCall, and I are an unbreakable trio. Even being two years older than them hasn't separated us. Nor will college, as I'll be attending Beacon University next year on full scholarship. We're a family, and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.

Downstairs I hear my mom, Marissa Abernathy, yelling at my younger twin brothers. Chase and Clark are the cleverest eight year olds I've ever met, and pretty much consider Stiles to be their hero. They can be rambunctious and a handful, but I love them completely. I also hear my father shouting that he has to leave.

Curious, I leave my room to peer over the third-floor bannister. "Honey, I have to go. Noah just called me in." William Abernathy tells his wife. "Patricia, I'm leaving! I'll see you in the morning! And go to bed on time!" He calls up to me.

"Okay dad! Stay safe!"

"Will do, kid." I wait for him to leave, then run to my room. I wait ten minutes for my dad and Sheriff Stilinski's voices to disappear with their squad car before putting my plan into action.

Grabbing the walkie-talkie I turn it on. _"Watson. Watson. Come in Watson."_

The other line crackles. _"Watson here. Over."_

_"Dad just left. Over."_

_"Mine, too, Holmes. Over."_

_"Pick up Lestrade? Over."_

_"Damn right. Over."_ The line shuts off and I do the same, lacing up my converse and pulling on a brown jacket. Grabbing my phone and backpack I rush downstairs, tiptoeing past the kitchen.

"Hold it right there, pumpkin!" I stop and slowly turn, my mother's lawyer face on. "And where do you think you're going?"

"To see Stiles. He's all alone, mom."

She sighs. "You two are inseparable. Are you sure you aren't -"

"Ew, gross, stop!" I order, covering my face. She laughs.

"I'm just kidding. But I'm sure that doesn't tear down his ego." I roll my eyes and nervously brush back my dirty blonde hair.

"So, can I?"

My mom bites her lip, thinking. Her auburn hair looks more red in the dim kitchen light, her light brown eyes staring into my blue. "Fine. But you're dropping the twins off tomorrow. Deal?"

I nod. "Deal. Love you!"

"Love you too, pumpkin!" We both wince as something crashes in the background, the twins immediately arguing. My mom rolls her eyes. "I knew we should have stopped at 1." I laugh and walk out the door, locking it behind me. Crossing the street quickly I knock on the door, my best friend opening it with a smirk.

"What's with the bag, Ricky?"

"Cover story, Sti. Let's get McCall while you tell me what's happening."

"Got it. Get in Roscoe!" He orders and we both duck into his baby blue Jeep, his mother's old car. I peer into my house's windows quickly, but there's no sign of my mother or any of the two snitches. Talking to himself Stiles starts the car, luckily a much louder one tearing down the street at the same time to cover his engine.

"You have got to get that fixed." I tell him.

"Why? Duct tape's working just fine." I laugh as we turn down our street, heading to Scott's. "So, dad got a call a ten minutes ago, then he called your's. Dispatch said they're bringing everyone in - even State Police!"

"Great. How come?" I ask.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods. Half of a body."

"Male or female?"

"Female." I nod, shifting in my seat. "You're not nervous, are you?"

"Well, it could be a serial killer."

"You have got to stop watching Criminal Minds at three in the morning."

"Why? Dr. Spencer Reid's a cutie, and Garcia reminds me so much of you. Loud, over-the-top, loyal. Smart." I add.

He "awws" and kisses my cheek and I groan, wiping it away.

"Careful now. Wouldn't want your lady love to find out you have the hots for an older woman."

"Shut up." He blushes. "We're about to look for a dead body." He quickly parks in front of the McCall house, Melissa's car gone which means Scottie-boy is all alone. We quietly get out and sneak over, Stiles climbing onto the roof while I just hide in the bushes.

Moments later, the back door opens. Scott McCall and his uneven jawline appear from around the back porch, bat in hands and face somewhat hidden by his floppy hair. Stiles picks that moment to swing upside down, yelling in surprise as Scott makes to hit him with his baseball bat, the two boys shrieking like three year olds. I walk out of the bushes, cackling as they calm down.

"Stiles, Pat, what the hell are you two doing?"

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles answers, and I snort.

"Typical."

"Why do you have a bat?" Stiles asks.

Scott begins to lower it. "I thought you were a predator!"

"Who would want to attack you?" I ask, scoffing. I pull myself up from the fencing on the porch, flipping over it like it's a balance beam.

"Show-off." Stiles grunts, before refocusing on our other friend. "A predator? Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this! Our dad's left twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called -"

"They're bringing everyone in the Sheriff's Department." I interrupt. "Even the State Police, dude."

"Yes, thank you, Patty." Stiles sneers at me.

"For what?" Scott asks.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Stiles flips down, flailing a bit.

"A dead body?" Scott asks, and I facepalm.

"No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body!" Stiles sasses, then jumps the fence to join us.

"You mean like murdered?" Scott asks.

"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s."

"Hold on. If they found the body, then what are you looking for?"

"That's the best part. They only found half." Stiles answers, excitedly.

"A girl's dead Stiles, turn down the 'we're going to Disneyland' voice." I gripe, but he ignores me. "We're going."

And sure enough, fifteen minutes later we're pulling in front of the Beacon Hills Preserve.

"We're seriously doing this?" Scott gripes, hood up. I climb out from the back and slam the door, backpack still in the car but flashlight and switchblade in my hands. "Why do you have a knife?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because I like to be prepared?" He just shakes his head and looks upward, as if begging the moon to save him from everything.

Stiles just scoffs at Scott. "You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." He slaps him on the back and leads him towards the woods. I just shake my head.

"I don't think he was talking about murder. Maybe just us getting a Starbucks. Or an amusement park." I point out, getting encouraging nods from Scott. "Even just a girlfriend." I yelp as he kicks some leaves at me, stepping out of the way.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott explains his reasoning for wanting to stay home.

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort."

I snort. "My poor Lacrosse benchwarmers. If it makes you feel better, I'll be cheering you on!"

"Shut up, Ricky." Stiles grumbles.

Scott just shakes his head. "No, because I'm playing this year. In fact I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit." Stiles briefly looks back as we trek through the woods. "Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one."

"Be nice." I tell him, tripping over a fallen branch but I right myself with Scott's help. "Thanks, buddy." He smiles happily at me, and I play with his hair.

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" I can't believe Scott was the one to ask the question. I mean, why didn't I?

"For?"

I blink. "Stiles, dude, do you know which of the halves the joggers already found?"

He pauses. "Huh. I didn't even think about that."

"Damn it Stiles." I mutter, and Scott snorts.

"And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out there?" Scott asks.

"Also something I didn't think about."

"Don't worry." I turn to the younger boys. "I brought protection." I flip my knife open and grin wickedly before climbing up a rock-and-leaf pile.

"It's… comforting to know you've… planned this out with your usual attention to detail."

"Scott, inhaler." I order, and he whips it out, taking a couple of puffs. I point my flashlight around, hearing a couple of noises. Suddenly Stiles drags me down, and I tug Scott with me. In the trees ahead of us we watch as the police and their dogs search for the body. "Crap." I mutter, closing my knife and Stiles and I shut off our flashlights. The police get closer.

"Okay, come on."

"Wait, Stiles!" I call, running behind him, poor Scott taking his time behind us. "Scott, find a tree. _Breathe!_"

Stiles grabs my hand and tugs us, tucking around. "Shh!" He orders me, and I give him a glare.

"Stiles!" We turn when Scott calls, but can't find him. A dog barks behind us and we both jump, grabbing each other's arms and falling backwards and crawling away."

"Hold it right there!" The state officer yells.

"Hang on, hang on. These little delinquents belong to us." I look up at the Sheriff and my dad, who shakes his head in half amusement, half annoyance.

"Dad, how are you doing?" Stiles asks.

"So, do you listen in to all my phone calls?" The Sheriff asks.

"No." Stiles pauses. "Not the boring ones."

"And you, kid?" My dad asks, green eyes shining in the light.

I shake my head. "Nope. I just call Stiles for information." I throw my best friend a smile and he makes a wounded noise.

"Alright, Holmes, Watson. Where's Lestrade?" the Sheriff asks, looking around.

"Who, Scott? He's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for our first day back at school tomorrow." Stiles lies, and I nod in agreement.

"Yeah, what we should have done." I smile innocently at my father.

"It's just us. In the woods. Alone." Stiles adds.

Our dad's give us a look. Then Noah points his flashlight at the trees. "Scott! Are you out there?"

"Scott?" My dad calls, his voice deep as always. Silence, then they lower their flashlights.

"Well, young man." Noah says. "I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy."

"You know what? We're gonna join you." My dad smugly grabs the back of my neck and leads me behind the Stilinskis. "We won't tell your mother about this. Lord knows she has enough on her plate. Besides, I did worse at your age." I give him an incredulous look, but he just keeps walking to the Jeep.

* * *

Finishing up my makeup, I smack my glossed lips together and raise my eyebrow, brushing my long curls onto one side as the sunlight catches on my gold hair. "Patty. Are you decent?" My dad asks.

"Always!" I call back and he snorts. I open it to see my mom and dad standing by the doorway, proud looks on their faces. "What?" My mom starts to tear up, and my dad rolls his eyes. "Mom, gross, stop crying." She only tugs me into a hug and I falter in my heels.

"Oh, I'm just so proud of you. College bound on a scholarship. A senior with a 4.0 average."

"Jesus, mom, I'm no hero." I hug her back, tightly. "But thank you."

"Hon, you do realize she's commuting to school next year, right?"

My mom scoffs, breaking away from me and tucking a finger under my chin, the both of them still much taller than me. "You should be dorming, pumpkin."

"And leave you without a regular sitter for Double Trouble? I don't think so."

"Mhmm. Love you."

"Love you too."

"Can I hug my daughter now?" I laugh at my dad and tug him into my arms, his muscular limbs around my smaller body. "I'm proud of you, kid. Do well today."

"Of course. Stay safe, daddy."

He snorts. "Believe me, I try." We break apart. "Alright, time for you to take the rugrats. Chase! Clark!"

"Coming!"

"Ah, stop pushing me!" Clark yells at Chase, and we hear the two of them stumbling down from their second floor room to kitchen. My mom huffs and follows the sounds of destruction, my dad following amused. With a sigh I grab my bag and coat and walk out my door, shutting it behind me.

Downstairs the twins are running around, grabbing their lunches and dodging our mom's kisses. "Attention, Double Trouble. Your ride's ready!" I announce.

"We haven't seen you in forever!" Chase yells, jumping on me. I laugh as Chase does the same.

"I saw you both this morning. During breakfast." I remind them.

Clark makes a face. "But that was forever ago!"

I roll my eyes and take their hands. "Alright, little buddies. Time for school. No complaints!"

"Bye mom!"

"See ya dad!" They call, Clark closing the door behind us. I open the backdoor of my 1967 Impala and usher the boys in. It was my mom's when she was younger, and a gift to me on my 16th birthday. Buffed recently, the black exterior shines and I pet my baby before climbing in, shoulder bag going on my passenger seat.

"Belts, boys." They nod and do as I ask. "And any arguments better be put on hold, or no more Impala for you."

"Yes ma'am." Clark says, green eyes shining.

Chase rolls his own green orbs but settles down, the two quietly goofing off. I smile but pull out of the driveway, passing Stiles still-parked Jeep on the way out.

The drive is filled with laughter and bad jokes, Chase just starting to fall into a "pun phase". Finally I pull up in front of the elementary school, waving at a few of their friends. "Okay, you two. Have a good day at school. Mom's picking you up."

"Ugh, why can't you?" Clark complains. I snort.

"Because I can't, rugrat. Come on, get!" They huff and roll their eyes, getting out of my baby, Chase carefully closing the door. I watch as they push each other on the way in and roll my eyes before pulling out of the drop off zone and heading off to school. I connect my iPod and play some Johnny Cash, singing along to _Ring of Fire_ as I drive to Beacon Hills High. I park my car in the lot jus as Cash is crooning out the last line of _Ain't No Grave_.

Seeing Stiles by one of the trees I lock up the Impala and shoulder my bag, rushing over to him. "So, did you get grounded?"

"Please. Dad's not home enough to ground me. He's taking his calls in hiding places, though." Stiles frowns, and I laugh at him.

"You are something else, Stilinski."

"Whatever, Abernathy. Yo, Scott!" Stiles yells, and I follow his gaze to see our friend rushing to us, setting his backpack and stick down.

"Guys, guys. Last night I got bit!"

"Bit? By what?" I ask.

"I don't know." Scott shrugs, panicking slightly.

"Okay, let's see this thing." Stiles bounces on the balls of his feet. Our friend pulls up his sweater and shirt, revealing his surprising abs and small square of taped gauze, some blood seeping through.

"Oh, Scott." I frown at him, gently checking him.

"Yeah." He lowers his shirts and puts his bag back on. "It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"A wolf bit you?" Stiles ask as we walk with him towards the building.

"Uh-huh."

"No, not a chance." Stiles disagrees.

"I heard a wolf howling." Scott tells him. I raise an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"No, he didn't. No, you didn't." Stiles tells us.

"What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?" Scott asks.

Stiles laughs and rushes in front of us, turning to stop us in our tracks. "Because California doesn't have wolves, okay? Not in, like, 60 years."

"Really?" I ask. "And how do you know this?"

"ADHD spiral." I nod at his shrug. "And yes, _really_, there are no wolves in California."

"Alright, well if you don't believe me about the wolf, then… you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I found the body."

Stiles freaks out, his voice quiet but movements crazy. "You-are you kidding me?" He asks, and I find myself getting a little excited, too, considering a girl was murdered.

"Which half?"

"Top. And no, I wish I was kidding. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month." I pat his shoulder but Stiles laughs, still excited. I throw him a disbelieving look.

"Oh, God. That is freakin' awesome. This is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since… Since the birth of Lydia Martin." Said strawberry blonde struts past, ignoring Stiles. "Hey Lydia, you look… like you're going to ignore me." I laugh as she continues walking away, then clap his shoulder.

"Well, boys, I've only got AP Bio first period, then I'm spending the rest of the day in the library. I'll meet you here after your practice."

"Kay. Bye Pat!" Scott calls, still consoling Stiles. I roll my eyes and walk up the school steps, yelping in surprise when Lydia steps in front of me, taking my hand.

"Good morning, Patricia."

"Lyds. Hi, sorry. What's up?" I ask, fixing my hair.

"Nothing! Just wanted to say hi! How was your break? Did you meet anyone?" She asks, and I laugh, walking towards my locker.

"No. I was busy."

She bounces up and down, then sighs. "God, you're gonna make me ask!"

I laugh. "Alright, what?" I look up at the slightly taller girl. Without heels she's got three inches on me, and Lord knows she walks around wearing stilettos.

"Did you get in?"

"You're looking at a member of Beacon University's Class of 2015, full scholarship." She claps her hand, proud. "I got into Stanford and Princeton as well, but they didn't give me enough money and someone needs to watch the kids until they're old enough."

She nods. Lydia acts like the typical popular girl, but she's more than that. She thinks I'm the only one who sees her, but Stiles does too. He used to ask me to put in a good word for her. But I've never felt comfortable doing that. We're friends, Lydia and I, but I've never been one for meddling.

"Hey, full scholarship anywhere is incredible. Besides, it's admirable of you to stay and help your parents. Besides, grad school is always an option!"

"Exactly! Listen, I have to run, but I'll see you later, right?"

"Of course. I should find Jackson and his meathead friends. By the way, there's a party at my place Friday, after the scrimmage. Try to come! Ciao!" She calls, walking away from me. I shake my head in amusement and close my locker, heading to Mrs. Finch's classroom, ready for the first hellish class.

* * *

I sit on the hood of my Impala, checking the time on my phone once more. God, those boys take forever to get changed after Lacrosse practice. Seriously, half the team's already pulled out of the lot, a couple of the older guys winking at me. I wrinkle my nose at the recent memory, tugging at the hem of my pleated black skirt. It comes mid-thigh, ending at the exact spot my fingertips reach when my arms are down, per dress code rule. Still, I'm lucky - despite my small stature I've got long legs and a short torso, which means my skirts can be shorter than most.

I also fix up my rose pink collared sweater and pick at the sheer dark tights under my skirt. Sure, we live in California, but Beacon Hills is up north, so it can still get cold in winter.

Finally, the boys come walking towards me, back in their school clothes. I hop off from the hood of my Impala and wrap my hand around the strap of my bag. "Dude, you should have seen it! Scott was on fire!" Stiles yells, rushing up to me.

"Wait, seriously?" I ask, pulling said boy into a hug. He laughs and spins me.

"It was incredible! I definitely made first line!"

He sets me down and I punch his shoulder. "Good job, Lestrade." I turn to Stiles. "So, the Preserve?"

"Yes. You gonna cheer for us as we look for the body?"

I roll my eyes as he looks me up and down, unimpressed. "I was excited. Sue me."

"Well, whatever we find, it better come with my inhaler."

"You lost your inhaler?" I ask Scott. He nods. "Well, damn, now we really have to go back to the woods."

"We'll meet you there."

"Hell yeah. I ain't driving with you when I've got my Impala." The boys snort and back away as I slide into my car. I wave as I pass them, getting a head start to the Preserve.

I wait for five minutes for the duo to pull up beside me, sitting on the hood of my impala cross legged, playing with my phone. I had pulled my brown leather jacket on when I arrived, to protect me from the chill in the air. "Dude, come on!" Stiles calls, rushing out of his Jeep, barely putting it in park. Scott helps me down from my little spot and I thank him, tucking my phone away in my coat pocket. My smaller legs carry me behind the taller boys, and I'm thankful for my water resistant boots when we splash through a small stream, my heels wobbling a bit in the mud as I quickly walk. It's cold for California, my legs shivering and I very much regret not putting on jeans, or at least a thicker pair of tights.

"I don't know what it was." Scott says as we cross the stream. "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing." We climb up a pile of leaves.

"What's going on?" I ask, nearly scraping my knee against a rock.

"I can… hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear." He walks under a branch, but I just walk around it. "Smell things. Like, you." He looks at me.

I wrinkle my nose. "Do I smell bad?"

He shakes his head. "No, you smell great. Like peaches." I smile at his sincere look, Stiles sniffing me.

"Hey, you really do. What else can you smell?"

"The mint mojito gum in your pocket."

"I don't even have any mint mojito -" Stiles stops talking, pulling out the piece of gum. Scott throws out his arms and continues walking, and I take the gum from Stiles, laughing at his hurt expression as I pop it in my mouth. "So all this started with a bite?" He asks Scott, who looks down at the ground presumably for where he dropped his inhaler.

"What if it's like an infection, like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something."

"Calm down, you damn hypochondriac." I gripe at him.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this." I turn to Stiles in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah." He nods, Scott slowing down to look at our best friend. "It's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" Scott asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called Lycanthropy." I huff and roll my eyes, arms crossed in annoyance as I slowly start to walk away.

"What's that?" Scott asks, worried. "Is that bad?"

"Oh yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month."

"Once a month?"

"Mhmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles howls and Scott scoffs and pushes him as they walk towards where I'm waiting. "Hey!" Stiles defends himself, amused. "You're the one who heard a wolf howling!"

"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me."

"I know!" Stiles shouts, still excited. "You're a werewolf. Rrrrrr!"

"Stilinski, don't make me use your real name." I warn, and he winces at my pointed finger.

"You got it, Wonder Woman." He turns to the anxious Scott. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's cause Friday's a full moon."

Scott stops walking, looking around. "What is it?" I ask, taking his shoulder.

"No, I-I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler." He ducks down, feeling around the leaves.

"Maybe the killer moved the body."

Scott looks up at Stiles. "If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, 80 bucks."

I hear a twig snap and jump, turning to see a slightly older man standing a few feet behind us, a slightly large black leather jacket covering him. "Hey, guys?" I ask, and my friends turn. The man walks towards us, and I swear to God he's the most handsome guy I've ever seen, all brooding and confident.

"What are you doing here?" He asks. "Huh? This is private property."

"Sorry." I try to keep the situation calm. "We didn't know. We were here last night, my friend dropped his inhaler."

The man reaches into his pocket and tosses something, Scott catching it. I look down in his fist to see it's the missing lifesaver. I look back up at the man in surprise, and I feel my cheeks flushing as he stares at me, head tilted. Then he turns and walks away, feet crunching against the leaves.

"All right, I gotta get to work." Scott mutters.

"Dudes!" Stiles stops up. "That was Derek Hale. You remember right? He's only a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" Scott asks.

"His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."

"Five." I correct, Stiles looking at me. I remember the news playing, my mom holding me while my dad rushed to the crime scene. "It was five years ago."

"I wonder what he's doing back?" Scott stares after the fading figure, and I bite my lip.

* * *

The next day at school, I watched as Scott McCall flipped over his teammates and scored a goal, effectively making first line. One look at Stiles and I knew something was definitely happening to our best friend. Something supernatural.

It's Friday, after the scrimmage. I sit on Stiles's bed, feet tucked under me as I scroll through my laptop. Stiles sits at his desk, researching werewolves. Any homework for the weekend has been ignored on account of concern for our best friend.

"Okay, so Derek was barely 16 at the time of the fire. He, his older sister Laura, and his uncle were the only survivors." I tell Stiles, reading the formal obituary. "It looks like Peter Hale is still in a coma, but there's no record of either Hale sibling since the fire."

"I've got silver bullets pulled up. A bunch of sites say different things."

"What does it say about werewolf abilities? We know Scott is fast and strong."

"Yeah, he's like Superman right now."

"Maybe it's just adrenaline?"

"Doubtful." Stiles snorts. "That bite looked bad. Like really bad. Besides, the fiber analysis showed wolf hair was present on the body."

"That's a good point. But maybe we're being a little crazy right now." I set my computer down and walk up behind him, peering over my best friend's shoulder. "How much Adderall have you taken?"

Someone knocks loudly on the door and we jump. I sit on the bed as Stiles carefully maneuvers through the sheets of printed papers lying around his floor. The door opens and behind it stands a grinning Scott. "Get in!" Stiles orders, slamming the door behind him. "You gotta see this thing. I was up all night reading - websites, books. All this information."

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asks, amused.

"A lot. Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen."

"Oh, is this about the body?" Scott tosses his bag on the bed, sitting next to me. "Did they find out who did it?"

"No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale." Stiles turns his rolling chair to face us, and Scott looks at me for reassurance. I nod, still typing away at my keyboard to figure out where Derek Hale's been.

"The guys in the woods that we saw the other day."

"Yeah!" Stiles spazzes a bit, and I'm definitely concerned about how much Adderall he's consumed. "Yes, but that's not it, okay?"

"What, then?"

"Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore." Stiles clutches the pictures in his hand. When Scott looks confused Stiles leans forward. "The wolf - the bite in the woods. I started doing all this research." I cough. "Fine, we started doing all this research." He spins around then jumps up. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?" Scott asks.

"It's a signal." Scott looks at me, confused by Stiles's words.

"When a wolf's alone, it howls." I start to explain. "It howls to signal its location to other pack members."

"Exactly!" Stiles shouts, pacing a bit. "So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em."

"A whole pack of wolves?"

"No… werewolves." Stiles corrects Scott, looking at me.

Scott stands up, unamused. "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour." He starts to put on his backpack, but Stiles stops him.

"I saw you on the field today, Scott. Both of us did." He gestures to me, and I nod, setting my laptop to the side. "Okay, what you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible."

"Supernatural." I correct, Scott turning to glare at me in disbelief.

"You, too? I thought you were the smart one?!"

"Hey!" I shout. "Don't be a dick!"

Scott quietly apologizes and turns to Stiles. "So I made a good shot."

"No!" Stiles stops him from moving. "No, you made an incredible shot!" He grabs his bag and tosses it next to me. "I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes." Stiles practically dances around the room. "People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision and the hearing."

"Scott." I gently cut in, the two boys looking at me. "You haven't used your inhaler since the night in the woods. Something strange is happening, you have to feel it!"

"Okay!" He shouts. "Dudes, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow." Stiles's eyes grow wide.

"Tomorrow? What, no! The full moon's tonight, don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do? I-I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me. And everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?" Scott asks as Stiles sits on his chair.

"I'm trying to help. You're cursed, Scott." There's a brief pause. "And it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

"Yeah, your urge to kill."

Scott sighs. "I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles." Unconcerned by our possible-werewolf friend's tone, Stiles turns in his chair and picks up his book on Lycanthropy.

"You gotta hear this. 'The change can be caused by anger, or anything that raises raises your pulse.'" He turns to Scott. "All right?" He slams the book closed and tosses it to the side. "I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date." Stiles shoots up and crosses over to Scott's bag, taking out his phone. The shorter boy protests, following him. "I'm gonna call her right now."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm canceling the date."

"No you're not!" Scott practically roars, throwing Stiles against the bedroom wall and breathing heavily. I jump and race towards the two, trying to break them apart. Scott's fist is raised to punch Stiles. Instead, he yells and knocks the chair over. He starts to pant heavily, leaning into me. "I'm sorry." Scott walks away from us, in shock. "I-I gotta go get ready for that party." He leaves the room, bag in hand, and I turn to Stiles.

"Yeah. So do we." Stiles picks up his chair and stops, swinging it so the back is facing me. Three long tears lie in the same spot Scott knocked it over. "Yeah, we really have to go to that party."

* * *

Lydia's party is in full swing by the time we pull into the driveway. Parking behind Stiles's Jeep I climb out of my car and straighten my pink bodycon dress and light cardigan, tan booties digging into the gravel. "Alright. We'll keep an eye on Lestrade."

"Yeah. He'll be with Allison. But as soon as the full moon starts to come out, we have to get him out of there."

I nod, and we both stare at the house. "You don't happen to have any wolfsbane on you, huh?" I ask.

He snorts and takes my arm, leading me towards the party. "We're screwed." I sigh and push him away, and he wanders off to presumably get some alcohol. Feeling hot I tug off my cardigan and hang it up on one of the hooks by the front door.

After grabbing a cup of whatever pink concoction Lydia's made tonight and talking to a few of my fellow seniors - then ignoring a particularly overbearing ex - I walk towards the pool, the main dance area, and see Scott and Allison making their way out as well. Weaving through the people I stop in front of them, smiling.

"Hey!" I smile at them, waving at the new girl. "Sorry I haven't introduced myself. I'm Patricia, one of Scott's best friends. You must be Allison."

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you." Her dimples pop out as she smiles, and I can immediately see why Scott fell for her.

"Well, I'll let you two get back to your date." I turn to Scott and hug the surprised boy. "Find us if something happens." I whisper, low enough for him to hear.

He nods, but when he stills I know something is wrong. I break apart and the two of us see a familiar man standing by the firepit.

"You two okay?" The tall girl asks us.

"Yeah. Ex-boyfriend I have to talk to. Have fun!" I tell them, carefully weaving away from them and chasing after one of the last Hales.

I find him behind the house, his larger body staring down at me. "Go back to the party." Derek growls. "This doesn't concern you."

"Pretty sure my best friend being a werewolf does concern me, Derek." He blinks, green eyes confused. "That's right, I know who you are."

"Hm." He looks around, scowling. "You should get back to the party, Patricia."

"But we're having so much fun right here." I sass, arms crossed. "Stay away from Scott." I glower at him.

"I'm here to help him." Derek growls at me. "I can do more than you or your little friend can. You won't be able to do anything. You're human. We're werewolves."

"Oh God, please tell me you don't have a species superiority complex."

"This has nothing to do with us being better than you."

I snort. "I can handle myself, Derek Hale. So stay away from us." With that I turn on my heel and march back to the party, only to see Scott stumbling away from a confused Allison. Taking her hand we rush after him, passing Stiles on the way out. We find Scott outside, stumbling over to his mom's car before getting in and closing the door, leaving us alone.

"Patricia. Allison." Our heads turn at the new voice, and I tug the taller girl behind me as Derek approaches. "Do you need a ride home?"

"How do you know us?" Allison asks.

"I'm a friend of Scott's." Derek turns to me.

I scoff. "Yeah, right. Allison, we'll take mine. Later, Derek." He glares at me as we walk away, Allison more than confused. She gets into the passenger side of my Impala and buckles up as I pull away from Lydia's house, giving me her address.

"Who's Derek? Why did he say he's friends with Scott?" She asks nervously.

Putting on a sad smile, I look at her. "Oh, he's my ex. We try to avoid him."

"Messy break up?" She asks, taking one of my hands in comfort.

"Yeah. Big disagreement. The boys used to hang out with him, but... Stiles and Scott are loyal friends." Allison sighs and I briefly turn my head to look at her. "Listen, I'm sure he didn't mean to leave you behind. Scott's been feeling weird all day. He didn't want to cancel on you, though. He really likes you."

"You think?" She nervously tucks her hair behind her ears.

I laugh. "Listen, I've known him since he was six years old. That boy hasn't been as into any girl as he is you. I'm sure he'll explain what happened. Just, try not to be too hard on him."

"It depends on his excuse." I laugh.

"You're really something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, that wasn't an insult." She nods. "I just mean, I can tell you're strong. That you don't put up with other people's crap."

"I try not to."

I chuckle. "Unfortunately, most guys our age are full of crap."

"You could say that again." We both laugh, and I pull in front of her large house. "Well, thanks for the ride. Hey, give me your phone. Please?" I do as she asks, and I watch her type into it. "Sorry, it's just, I've only really made friends with Lydia and Scott. They told me you're busy with senior year, but I'd love to have someone give me advice. If you want." She stares at me, nervous.

I laugh and take my phone from her, texting her my name so she can save it. "Girl, it's fine. Hey, if you want I can take you around town tomorrow? We can do homework at the cafe downtown."

"Sure!" She smiles and gets out, leaning down to finish talking to me. "It was nice to meet you. Can I call you Trish?"

I smile. "Well, that's something I probably should be going by instead of Patty. So yes. See you tomorrow, Alli."

She smiles and carefully closes the door, walking into her house. I wait for a second to make sure we weren't followed and then pull out, calling Stiles.

"Where the hell are you?" He asks as I put him on speaker.

"I was dropping Allison off."

"So Derek doesn't have her?"

"No! Why would you think that?"

"Well, I saw him talking to you and told Scott, who's busy turning into a werewolf and is panicking!" He yells at me. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not an idiot. I took her home. Where are you?"

"I'm pulling up to Allison's house right now." I huff.

"Jesus, Stiles, where the hell's Scott?" I ask.

"I don't know! I followed him home and he said Derek's the one who bit him! I thought you two were in trouble!"

"Stiles, we're fine. We need to get Scott!"

"No, no, you go home. I'll check on Allison, make sure Derek isn't there. Please stay safe!" I sigh and nod, even though he can't see me.

"You too, Watson."

"Count on it, Holmes." We hang up on each other and I drive back to my house, the full moon shining above me.

* * *

Saturday was fun, Allison and I working on what little homework our teachers assigned us at the Beacon Bean, nursing latte after latte and giggling about childhood stories. I learned she moved around a lot because of her parents, but mostly her dad who's an arms dealer for the government. She's a year older than Scott and Stiles, and practically begged me not to say anything. I take promises seriously, especially of the pinky variety, so her secret is safe with me. By the end of the day I made a new best friend. This time a girl, more open than Lydia and unafraid to be herself. That Monday I caught up with Stiles and an exhausted Scott, who pulled me into a hug and practically cried out an apology. I just stroked his hair, the concern on my face mirrored on Stiles's. They told me about the hunters, about Scott being shot with an arrow and Derek finding him.

"Don't worry. Stiles and I will keep you chained up on full moon nights and toss you a raw steak."

Scott had laughed at that. "Stiles only offered me mice."

"Well, Stiles is gross, Lestrade."

After school Allison and I walk out to the parking lot, finding Scott sitting at one of the tables. "So what happened? You left me stranded at the party." She keeps walking and I laugh under my breath at her take-no-prisoners attitude, Scott quickly following after us.

"Yeah, I-I know, I know. I'm really sorry, I am. But… you're gonna have to trust that I had a really good reason." Allison looks into his eyes as we walk.

"Did you get sick? Trish said you weren't feeling well that day."

Scott looks at me in thanks. "I definitely had an attack of something." We stop walking and I stand a little behind the couple, watching in anticipation.

"Am I gonna get an explanation?" She asks him.

"Can you just find it in your heart to trust me on this one?" Scott asks, and Allison sighs.

"Am I gonna regret this?"

"Probably." I laugh at Scott, holding my hands up in surrender and getting a giggle from Allison. "So is that a yes on a second chance?"

"Definitely yes." A car honks as they step closer to each other, and we all look at the red Tahoe at the pick up zone. That's my dad. I better go." She waves to us and walks towards her equally tall dad. He stares at us, and I bite my lip, nervous my how focused he is on Scott. My friend nervously waves and the man smirks, climbing into his car and driving his daughter away.

"Pat?"

"Yes?"

"That was the hunter who shot me."

I look at him in alarm, and then the fading Tahoe. "'Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.'" Scott looks at me. "_Romeo and Juliet_."

"Aw, crap." Scott mutters, and I nod my head. This just got a whole lot more interesting.


	2. Second Chance at First Line

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way, but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all.**

* * *

A half an hour ago Scott apologized to Allison. 30 minutes ago, we saw the man who hunts werewolves. And I can't help but worry about Scott, out there on the Lacrosse field.

I sigh, though, and flip through my AP Bio textbook, filling out my homework. A couple of fellow classmates - Cary and Lisa - sigh with me. The three of us make faces of irritation, then laugh. We got ourselves into this mess, after all.

Suddenly, my phone begins to ring, Stiles contact picture lights up. Ms. Ryans throws me a glare and the two girls giggle as I rush out, answering it as soon as I've left the library.

"Hey, what's wro-"

"It's Scott! We're in the locker room!" Stiles yells, and I instantly pale.

I instantly hang up and make a mad dash to the guys' changing room, sliding through the open door and finding Stiles on the ground, fire extinguisher to the side as he talks to Scott.

"It's the anger. It's a trigger."

"What happened?" I ask, rushing to Scott and taking his face in my hands, checking him for any cuts.

"Got angry. Knocked down Jackson."

Despite the situation, I snort. "Good."

"No, not good." I turn to the irate Stiles. "He tried to kill me!"

I give Scott a look, but he sighs breathlessly. "But that's Lacrosse, Stiles. It's pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed."

"Well, it's gonna be a more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can't play Saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."

"Wha- Pat?" I look at my frustrated friend. "Do I have to?"

I cross my arms. "Well, yes. You clawed Stiles chair on Friday. You apparently wolfed out on the field. I know it sucks, but you can't play. Not until you get this under control."

"I'm first line."

"Not anymore." Stiles tells him, looking disappointed as well.

* * *

I sit in Stiles room, laying on his bed and attempting to finish my AP Literature essay on a couple of Shakespeare's sonnets. Thankfully I only have to take four classes my last semester, and they're spread out. The downside? They're all AP. I finished the rest of my requirements my junior year, stressing me out completely but evidently impressing the admissions offices of the colleges I applied to.

As I type away Stiles grabs his nerf gun and Skypes Scott, who's probably busy brooding in his room.

The ringing stops and Stiles shoots at the screen. The bullet bounces off and hits me on the side of the face and I scowl. "Stiles."

"Sorry." He grumbles, before focusing on Scott. I set my computer aside as well, satisfied with what I've written.

"What'd you find out?" Scott asks Stiles, referring to what happened to Jackson.

"Well, it's bad." At Stiles's words I get up to lean over his shoulder. "Jackson's got a separated shoulder."

"Because of me?"

"Because he's a tool."

"Damn straight. Karma's a bitch." I respond, Stiles high-fiving me.

"Well, is he gonna play?" Scott asks.

"Well, they don't know yet. Now they're just counting on you for Saturday."

Scott sighs, shaking his head. In the corner of his room, I see a dark figure. Stiles and I lean in closer, trying to see who it is. "What?" Scott asks, confused. I quickly text him.

**Dude.** The video glitches and Scott freezes on his end. **Behind you.** I text, but it's taking too long to send. When the feed goes through, the last thing we see is Derek Hale rushing to Scott, slamming the laptop down and ending our feed. Stiles and I just blink at the screen.

"Well." I finally say. "I need to go to the library. So, um."

"Yeah. I have math homework." Neither one of us mentions Scott and Derek, not wanting to be involved as we are mere humans and don't possess a death wish.

With that I kiss his cheek and grab my bag, leaving the Stilinski house to walk into mine. Chase and Clark are off at a playdate so my mom can focus on work, and she looks up at me from the kitchen table, glasses perched on her nose.

"Oh, hi pumpkin. I thought you were hanging out with Stiles?"

"Yes. Then I remembered I need to go to the library, so I came to drop off my bag."

"Got it." I walk past her to go up the three flights of stairs, entering my room and dropping the duffle on my bed. I grab my side purse and slide in my phone, wallet, house keys, and car keys. With that I leave my room, kissing my mother's cheek on the way out and straightening a few of her files.

"Please be careful. Your dad told me there's still no leads on the killer!" My mom calls after me, and I nod at her from my spot at the door.

"Okay! I'll text you when I'm inside the library. Love you mom."

"I love you too, pumpkin." Locking the door behind me I get in my car and drive towards the Beacon Hills Public Library, not paying attention to my radio. Finally I reach my destination, and I park right outside the most likely empty building.

Betty waves to me at the front desk, and I only see a few of the older Beacon Hills residents milling around silently. I walk to the classics section, hearing footsteps behind me. I turn, and no one's there. Balling my hand into a fist I keep walking, whoever's following me getting closer. All of a sudden I'm dragged into a back section, pressed against the works of Edgar Allan Poe, judging from the book that fell on my shoulder and tumbled to the carpeted ground too silently.

I look up and see the green eyes of Derek Hale and instantly glower. "Seriously?"

He narrows his eyes. "You need to keep Scott from playing on Saturday, or he'll reveal what he is."

"And then that secret will be out of the bag, and the hunters will be after him." He nods and lets go of me, backing up to lean against the opposite shelving. I straighten myself and cross my feet as I lean back. "Why didn't you go bother Stiles?"

"Because I don't know him."

I scoff. "You don't know me. You're lucky I didn't scream."

Derek snorts. "I haven't been that lucky recently." I tilt my head. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Right, I forgot. I'm just a pesky human." He snorts once more, his face still serious. I press the back of my head.

"You okay?" He asks.

Clutching my chest overdramatically, I gasp. "Derek Hale, concerned about the wellbeing of a girl half his height? How scandalous." Derek growls.

"And that is why I don't like people."

"I ain't people." I laugh at my own reference to _Singin' In the Rain_. "Well, if you're done, I have some books to get for my APs." I start to walk away from him and he follows me.

"You're in AP classes? Aren't you a sophomore?"

"I'm a senior."

"And you're friends with Scott?"

"Have been for years. He's a good kid." I turn to look up at him. "And if you dare harm him in any way I will figure out how to kill you and make you suffer tenfold."

Derek scoffs. "Good luck with that. Hell has a better chance of freezing over."

"Go ahead, underestimate me. See what happens." I warn, turning the corner. "You damn T-800." There's complete silence, and I realize Derek disappeared. I thunk my head against the nearest panel of wood. "Why is my life suddenly a TV show?"

* * *

Over the next few days, Scott tried to get out of playing this Saturday. I try to help him, but when he says no to faking an injury I let him handle it himself. Waiting for him to leave Coach Finstock's office I check my nails, frowning at the chipping black paint. Scott sighs and rubs his eyes as he walks up to me.

"No luck?" I ask.

"No. He wouldn't listen."

"See, I told you that you should've faked a sprain." We start walking towards his next class, and his phone pings.

"Dammit, she got the shift off." Scott grumbles.

"Hey." An angelic voice greets, and we look up to see Allison descending.

"Alli!" I give her a quick hug, the girl laughing. She wraps an arm over my shoulders as we face Scott.

"Busy?" She asks her potential boyfriend, noticing the phone in his hand.

"No, no, it's just, uh, my mom, she's nothing. I mean it's nothing. I'm never too busy for you." He smiles at Allison, who laughs and smiles back. Oh my God, I'm getting damn cavities.

"I like the sound of that. I have to run to French class, but I wanted you to know that I'm coming to see you play tomorrow." Allison nervously looks down at the ground before staring at my best friend.

"You are?" Scott asks.

She nods. "And we're all going out afterwards. You, me, Lydia, Jackson, Trish." I grin. "It's gonna be great. Tell Stiles to come, too. Uh, save me a seat at lunch!"

"Wait, Alli, I'm gonna walk with you. I have to stop at my locker."

"I can wait for you, if you'd like?" She asks, and we wave at the worried Scott.

"No, it's fine. I'm heading home."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I only had one class today. AP Calculus."

"Wow, that's insane. How'd you manage that?" She asks, and we turn down the hall.

I shrug. "Junior year I basically doubled my requirements. My mom helped me prepare my case for the school board and everything. But it was so worth it. I think I'm the only senior not stressing right now."

She laughs, and stops briefly when we reach my locker. "Are you some kind of genius?"

I shake my head, laughing. "Oh, hell no. Just really determined to get out of high school."

She nods, and waves. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I nod. "Of course. Want to go out to the Beacon Bean?"

"Hell yeah. Au revoir!" Allison calls, walking off to her next class. I grin and open my locker, coming face-to-face with a cardigan. My cardigan, from Lydia's party. I left it, when I took Allison home. Maybe Lydia returned it? She has a habit of breaking into lockers. I pull it down and smile, sliding my arms through the sleeves before grabbing my bag. I look around, thinking I'm hearing something. The warning bell rings and I jump before closing my locker with a laugh, walking out of the school.

Fifteen minutes later I'm back home, the house completely empty due to the face it's barely 11 o'clock. I cross over to the fridge and pull out the leftover pancakes, having decided not to eat breakfast this morning.

I pull off my cardigan and stare at it, confused. I text Lydia **Thank you.**

_For what?_ Is her response.

**My cardigan.**

_What cardigan?_

I blink, biting my nails worriedly. **Nevermind.**

_You're going crazy in your old age. And what's this about Scott McCall not playing Saturday?_

Uh-oh. A curious Lydia is a dangerous Lydia. **Ask him. Gotta go, bye!**

I ignore whatever she's texted me to heat my pancakes, drizzling more than enough syrup over them. I walk into the living room and turn on the TV, listening to the news and thinking about how I could have gotten my jacket back.

"Still, the police are unsure of who is responsible for the killing. While wolf hairs were found on the victim's body, police are doubtful this was an animal attack." I look up at the woman standing in front of the preserve and turn up the volume, leaning forward. "Anyone with any information of a missing woman in Beacon County is encouraged to come forward. We've been told the upper half of the body remains unfound. If you've seen anything suspicious, please, go to the Sheriff's Department. Back to you, Steve." I lower the volume again, shoving my empty plate to the side in order to make room for my calculus assignment.

Two hours later I put the paper and pencil down, shaking out my hand. The front door opens and I look to see my dad entering, groaning. He had the night shift, and is basically stumbling into the living room.

"Hey kid. Is school over already?"

I snort. "Only for me. I had AP Calculus today."

"Right, right. I'm going to take a nap. You're going to the game tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. My boys need a personal cheerleader. I'm going to hang out with Allison and Lydia first, though. Girl time."

My dad snorts, and kisses the top of my head. "Alright, kid. I'll see you when I wake up."

"Okay!" I call as he walks up the stairs, groaning as he moves. The bedroom door closes and I put my homework away, excited that I basically have the weekend free to deal with this whole werewolf situation. I close my eyes and lean back, before sitting up straight in shock. There was someone else at that party. Someone else could use his crazy sense of smell to find my cardigan. Someone who's been following me.

I quickly call Scott, not knowing who else to call.

_"Hello?"_ He asks, confused. I breathe heavily. _"Pat, what's wrong."_

"M-my cardigan. I left it at Lydia's on Friday. S-someone. S-someone left it my locker. I think it was Derek. He's been following me."

I hear growling on his end. _"Stay calm. I'm going to take care of it."_ He hangs up and I sigh, climbing onto the couch and rolling over to face the TV, changing the channel.

* * *

Stiles practically dragged me out of my house and into his Jeep, throwing the occasional concerned look my way. We park in front of the McCall house and Stiles pulls out the keys he copied from Scott, running up the stairs. I calmly close it behind me and follow him up.

"What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And yes , I've had a lot of Adderall, so…?" Stiles asks, Scott fixing the net on his stick.

Scott gets up when he sees me and pulls me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Pat. I hope he leaves you alone."

"Thanks, Scotty."

"What happened?" Stiles asks.

Scott turns to our best friend. "Derek got into her locker and left her cardigan for her."

"That dick!" Stiles yells, pulling me into a hug as well. "So you left to confront him?"

"Yeah. And I found something at Derek Hale's. There's something buried there - I could smell blood."

"Wow! That's amazing. I mean that's terrible." He nods at my unimpressed glare. "Who's blood?"

"I don't know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing. Because there's no way I'm not playing that game."

* * *

A few hours later we walk into the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, our plan mapped out while munching on two large pepperoni pizzas at the McCalls. Stiles will act as a distraction while Scott and I examine the body, and he figures out if he recognizes the scent or not.

The doors slide open and we're surrounded by harsh lights, so different than the darkness outside. "Hey." Stiles points towards the morgue.

"Okay." Scott looks at me. "You ready?"

"One scare isn't enough to set me back."

"Good luck, I guess." Stiles tells us awkwardly. I give him a look and shove Scott towards the morgue door.

We walk past a nurse, whose too busy to pay attention to us. I duck down by the door, standing behind Scott. "Anyone there?" I ask.

"No. Let's go." He opens the door quickly and I follow him, quietly shutting it.

I look around the cold, empty room and turn to my partner. "We're looking for a Jane Doe. It should be a partial tag."

"Got it." He whispers back, and we walk past the different containers. All those people, dead. They had lives. Maybe they lived them, maybe they didn't. "Found it."

"Okay." I walk over to him and cover his hand as he pants. "Hey, I'll open it. You just put that nose of yours to use."

Scott nods and removes his hand so I can pull the lever down and open the little hatch. Pulling on some nearby medical gloves I pull out the slab, lifting the sheet. The woman's dirt covered feet are revealed, and both of us wince. I look away. Scott clears his throat and I quickly flip down the sheet, rolling the body back where it belongs and removing the gloves from my hands, throwing them away. We quickly leave the morgue.

Stiles is sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, reading a pamphlet on the menstrual cycle. Scott pulls it out of his hands and he freaks out a bit. "The scent was the same." Our werewolf buddy tells him.

"You sure."

"I hope so." I mutter, getting a nod of agreement from Scott.

Stiles stands up. "So he did bury the other half of the body on his property."

"Which means we have proof he killed the girl."

"But no motive." I remind them, and Scott looks at me in disbelief.

"Pat, he freaked you out on purpose, remember?"

"Trust me, I won't forget." I sigh. "But we have to be absolutely sure he did it, otherwise we're just getting him arrested so you can play a game."

Scott groans. "Come on, Pat."

I sigh. "Fine. Fine." I hold up my hands in surrender. "Hopefully you're wrong."

We look at Stiles. "I'm with you. I say we use what we have."

"Okay. But how?" Scott asks.

"Let me ask you something. Because Ricky is right. Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play the game and he said you shouldn't?"

"There are bite marks on the legs Stiles - bite marks."

"Okay." Stiles nods. "Then we're gonna need a shovel."

An hour later, we're driving through a small clearing in the preserve, trying not to make too much noise so we don't alert the possible murderer of our late night intentions. We watch from the shadows as Derek leaves the ruins of the Hale House, getting into his shiny black Camaro. Stiles inches the Jeep slowly towards the house, and we park in the spot Derek just left. I quietly slip out from the backseat, carrying the flashlight as the boys shift their shovels in their hands. We walk towards the side of the house.

"Wait, something's different."

"Different how?" Stiles asks.

"I don't know." We walk up to where the other half is buried. "Let's just get this over with."

I stand by a tree as the boys begin to dig, dirt flying everywhere as they grunt.

Finally Scott stops digging. "This is taking way too long."

"Just keep going." Stiles orders.

I look around, nervous. "What if he comes back?" I ask, my voice no louder than the wind.

"Then we get the hell out of here!"

"What if he catches us?" Scott asks, digging again.

"I have a plan for that."

There's silence. Finally, I grow impatient. "Which is?"

"You guys run one way, I run the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad."

I glare at his nonchalant shrug. "You are awful. You know that, right?"

"Pat's right. I hate that plan." Stiles snorts and brings his shovel down, when we hear a thud.

"Okay, stop, stop, stop." They toss the shovels to the side and I kneel down in the hole with them, helping them pick up some rope.

"Hurry." Scott urges.

Stiles groans. "I'm trying. Did he have tie the thing in like, 900 knots?" I quickly move his fingers out of the way and quickly slip my smaller, thinner ones in, unraveling each side. The boys open it and I shriek, scattering back. The boys do the same, screaming and pulling me out of the small pit of doom.

Inside the tied up bundle lies a wolf's head and part of it's torso. It's black, it's fur matted with dirt and eyes glazed over. "What the hell?" I ask, looking up at the boys.

"It's a wolf!" Scott yells, unhelpfully. I roll my eyes.

"I thought you smelled blood - human blood!" Stiles argues.

"I told you something was different." Scott tries to explain. I look up and out, and see a strange purple flower. I blink, recognizing it from all of Stiles's research.

"Aconite." I mutter, getting up and rushing over to the flower. The boys stop arguing and watch as I tug the plant up, realizing it's attached to another thick rope.

"That's wolfsbane." I nod at Stiles's words.

"What's that?" Scott asks.

Stiles looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, haven't you ever seen The Wolf Man?"

"No."

"Lon Chaney, Jr.? Claude Rains?"

"The original werewolf movie?" I ask, still holding the flower.

"No. What?" Scott asks, frustrated.

"You are so unprepared for this." Stiles tells him, and I snort despite the situation we've found ourselves in. I lift the flower some more and walk in a spiral, leading me backwards in an inward spiral, and I watch as a red light follows my movement. I keep walking when Stiles and Scott stand up.

"Pat?" Scott asks, and I finish bundling up the rope. I walk over to where they stand, looking at the wolf. Only there's no longer a wolf. Instead, there's a naked, blood-and-dirt covered woman in it's spot, mouth open in shock and frightened eyes staring up at us.

* * *

As I had a breakfast date with Allison, the boys went to go watch the Sheriff and his deputies arrest Derek Hale. We giggled over croissants and cappuccinos, and I pretended I hadn't seen a dead body in the woods. I pretended that one of my best friends isn't a werewolf. I pretended that another werewolf - one who bit my friend and murdered another woman - had returned my cardigan via breaking into my locker. But halfway through our "girl time" I had to take a call from my mother. One that had my head spinning and my whole world tipping over. Confusion haunted me the rest of the day, even with the distraction of my two closest female friends.

As Alli had to spend time with her parents - her dad, the werewolf hunter, apparently - I met up with Lydia at the mall. She of course dragged me into Macy's for the latest sale.

"Sweetheart, we need to get you more skirts. Your legs look so good in them!" She told me, flinging a stack of them into my arms, along with a few new dresses and some form-fitting tops.

"Lydia, this seems a bit excessive."

"Fashion is not excessive. It is life. You are a senior, you're meant to turn heads!" She gripped with the authority of her popular girl status. I mean, not that I'm not popular, too. I'm just not "Lydia Martin" popular.

As she forced me into a changing room, I had said, "I'm older than you, remember? Respect your elders."

"I will, when you get new clothes."

"You're just lucky my mom's on your side, or I'd never be able to pay for all this." I muttered.

Of course, nearly five hours later we left the mall with five bags of clothes and shoes each, the both of us masterly carrying a milkshake into our cars.

Stiles called me, just as Lydia and I parked at the school and left our separate vehicles. Evidently Scott had run off, after he pulled the wolfsbane from the makeshift grave out of Stiles bag. Evidently he freaked out and ran off.

Of course, I couldn't do anything except for find Allison in the stands, politely shaking her father's hand and watching the rest of the crowd come onto the chilly field, the sky nearly pitch-black. While our team - the Cyclones - leave the school to join their opponents on the field, Coach Finstock stands to the side, the exuberant man seemingly calm.

Stiles and Scott are the last two to join, talking. Stiles walks away as soon as Lydia comes up to Scott, sharing what I'm sure is a terrifying conversation.

"Sorry, I have to go say hi to my friends." I excuse myself from the Argent man's presence, then smile at Allison. "Save my seat?"

"Of course. Unless Lydia takes it."

I laugh. "Oh, she will. Then make sure the spot next to her is free!" I make my way down from the bleachers and jog over to Stiles. "Hey, my mom called me today. She said she'd be out late, because she's helping a client. Apparently, she's his family's lawyer."

"Why and who?" Stiles asks.

I sigh. This is what's been haunting me. Something I didn't think could just be said over the phone to my best friends. "Derek Hale. And guys, my mom is a damn good lawyer."

He pales a bit. "Are you serious?" I nod.

"Okay, we can't tell Scott. He's freaking out."

"Why?"

"Jackson." I groan, right as Lydia and Allison yell for me to come back. "Nice skirt, by the way. Lydia?"

I groan and look down at the new purple leather miniskirt, accompanied with thick white tights, a low cut pastel yellow sweatshirt, and my brown leather jacket. "Shut up Stilinski." I ignore his laugh and practically stomp up to the girls, the heels on my ankle boots squishing in the mud.

The whistle blows and the two teams run out on the field. I clap with Lydia and Allison, standing on the former's other side. "Woooh! Let's go Cyclones!" I shout from my seat, Lydia joining in.

The starting whistle blows and the two players fight for the ball. Scott's wide open, but the other teammates start to pass to each other, ignoring number 11. I frown, but then quickly force a smile, getting a look from Stiles. I notice that his dad came and quickly wave, getting a fatherly grin from him in return. Number 37 - Jackson - then knocks him out of the way to take the ball, Scott on the ground as he runs and makes the goal. The crowd cheers, but I growl, anger coursing through my veins. I throw a look at Lydia, who winces at the venom in it before refocusing on her boyfriend and the game.

As Coach Finstocks runs around, praising his star player, I look at my best friend.

"C'mon Scott. Please get up." I whisper, knowing he can hear me. He looks at me and nods, standing. I look to the side where he's now glaring, and see Lydia and Allison standing and holding up a "We Luv U Jackson" sign while cheering loudly.

I wince, then turn back to my friend. Near the other side of the field, Jackson is talking to the rest of the teammates. By the way Scott is tensing, what they're saying isn't good.

"Aw, crap." I mutter. This is gonna be so bad.

The opposing team Scores five goals, but Beacon Hills is stuck on 3. Scott is bending over, looking sick, but after a ref checks on him he straightens, body tense.

The game starts again, the whistle blowing. Scott jumps up and manages to take the ball, literally leaping through the air and dodging the rival players, scoring a goal. We're at 4 points, now.

"Woooh! Number 11!" I shout, cheering for Scott, along with Allison. I smirk internally at the dejected look on Lydia's face. Finstock yells for the players to pass to him, and I laugh at the defeated look on Jackson's face. Something incredible happens in the next round - the opposing player actually passes the ball to Scott, willingly.

Which means he's wolfed out. Awesome.

Scott rolls with it though, scoring another point.

Finally, we're down to the last play. And just like the past two times, Scott scoops up the ball. He pauses, though, and the crowd yells for him to shoot. He scores, winning Beacon Hills High the game. As the crowd cheers I notice something is wrong with Scott, and he runs off. Before I can follow, Lydia pulls me into a hug, jumping up in excitement. Over her shoulder I see Allison chase after him, only becoming more worried.

The strawberry blonde finally release me to join in the celebration on the field. I go to sit next to Stiles, muttering that something's wrong. Before we can leave Sheriff Stilinski gets a call. And what he tells us has us jumping from the bench and running to the men's locker room, ignoring Noah's confused yells.

We walk in and find Allison and Scott kissing passionately. I pull Stiles behind some of the lockers, waiting for the new couple to separate. After another quick peck, we hear Allison walking towards us. With that we stop hiding, acting as though we've just come in. "Stiles, Trish." Allison awkwardly greets us, leaving in a blushing mess.

"Hey, yeah." Stiles says, and I smack his arm so we can talk to the blissed-out Scott. He walks towards us, taking small steps and smiling like an idiot.

"I kissed her." He says, giddily.

"We saw." Stiles tells him.

"She kissed me."

"Yes." I nod. "But we need you to snap out of it."

"But why?" He asks cutely. "I controlled it. I pulled myself back. Maybe I can do this. Maybe it's not that bad."

Stiles scoffs. "Yeh, heh, we'll talk later then."

"No, we can't." I glare at him. I turn to Scott. "Buddy. Come back to Earth."

"What?" He asks, becoming more serious. I look at Stiles, who nods.

"The, uh, medical examiner looked at the other half of the body we found."

"And…?"

I look up at him, holding a hand out to stop Stiles. "Let me get straight to the point. The medical examiner determined the cause of death animal, not man -"

"Derek's human, not animal. Derek not killer. Derek let out of jail." Stiles interrupts me.

"Are you kidding?" Scott asks.

I make a face and shake my head. "No. And it gets worse. Our dad's ID'd the girl. Both halves. The victim is Laura Hale. Derek's older sister."


	3. Pack Mentality

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way, but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all.**

* * *

I pull in front of the elementary school, smiling softly as Chase and Clark finish their arguments to kiss my cheek. "Stay safe. Be good!" I call after them. They just wave and go back to their argument. I watch as the walk with the other kids into the building, praying that Derek isn't vindictive enough to scent out my brothers and get revenge.

Sudden honking snaps me out of it.

"Okay! Okay! Damn!" I yell, waving out the window at the other cars before driving to the high school. Jackson's Porsche passes by me, and he speeds into his usual spot. Douchebag.

I park two cars down from him and slam the door closed. "What the hell, Whittemore?!"

"Aw, did I scratch that old rust bucket of yours?"

I growl and walk up to him, finger pointed into his chest. "Your parents may have money, but it ain't yours. Not really. So stop trying to act like you're better than the rest of the world."

He leans in and whispers, "Sweetie, I _am_ better than the rest of the world." With that he walks away to join his Lacrosse buddies, leaving me to stew in my anger.

That son of a bitch.

"Yo, Ricky!" Stiles calls, and I turn to smile at him. It fades when I see the anxious Scott, who honestly looks like he didn't even sleep last night.

"Oh my God what happened?" I ask.

"Scotty here had a bad dream. Well, it started off as a good dream." I raise an eyebrow in confusion and look at Scott, who runs a hand through his floppy hair.

"Alright, so Allison and me-"

"And _I_." I correct, but he just makes a face.

"You weren't there." I roll my eyes with Stiles, and Scott continues. "We were at the school, kissing. Then we got onto the bus. I started wolfing out, and then there was a chase, and blood, and she was screaming."

"So you killed her?" Stiles asks, opening the door so we can enter the school.

"I don't know. I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."

"Really? I have. Usually it ends a little differently."

I scrunch my nose up at Stiles. "Disgusting."

"A) I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real. And B) never give me that much detail about you in bed again."

"Hear, hear." I agree with Scott.

"Noted. Let me take a guess here."

"No, I know, you think it has something to do with going out with Allison tomorrow." Scott interrupts. "Like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out."

"No, of course not." We both look at Stiles, incredulous. "Yeah, that's totally it." Scott breathes heavily. "Hey, come on, it's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this pretty freakin' well."

"Totally." I agree, patting Scott's shoulder. "Besides, you've got Holmes and Watson to help you, Lestrade."

Stiles nods. "Yeah, it's not like there's a 'Lycanthropy for Beginners' class you can take."

"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher."

"Who, Derek?" Stiles freaks out, stopping us in our tracks to briefly smack Scott up the head. "You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?"

"Yeah, dude, we're lucky he hasn't gotten back at us. Violently." I add, grimacing. We keep walking.

"Yeah, I know! But chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real."

"How real?"

"Like it actually happened." We walk out to the courtyard, and see the police standing around a ripped up school bus, blood spattered everywhere.

"I think it did." Stiles finally says.

* * *

Allison is fine. According to Scott, Jackson's locker is not. Evidently Scott lost control and banged on it, warping the metal completely and practically knocking it off its hinges. All anyone can talk about is the crime scene outside, and if it weren't for the fact I have AP Physics and AP Literature today I'd be focusing on that, too. But there ain't no rest for the wicked.

Not until lunch time, at least. While Scott and Stiles discuss the severely injured man that was found and wait on line for gross school lunch I follow them, leftover chinese food from last night in my hands. "But dreams aren't memories." Stiles argues, trying to convince our friend he didn't do whatever happened.

"Then it wasn't a dream, okay? Something happened last night." I sit next to Stiles, Scott across from him. "And I can't remember what."

"What do you have?" Stiles asks me, interested in the to-go container.

"Singapore noodles. And no, you can't have any."

Stiles huffs, then refocuses on Scott. "What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?"

"Because. During the full moon he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

"You don't know that."

"I don't not know it." He sighs. "I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel."

"No, you're not canceling." We look at Stiles. "Okay? You can't just cancel your entire life."

"He's right." I grab Scott's hand. "We're gonna figure this out. Together."

"Figure what out?" We look up to see Lydia sitting in the seat beside Scott, setting down her tray.

"Just, uh, homework." Scott covers, throwing us a look. I remove my hand and smile at Lydia.

Stiles leans forward and whispers, "Why is she sitting with us?"

Suddenly a few of the players come over to our table, sitting with us. Scott moves his bag for Allison, who thanks him sweetly. Stiles awkwardly looks at Danny, who looks away.

"Get up." Jackson orders Brian.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?"

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." Brian huffs and moves, Jackson taking the seat as head of the table. I'm about to leave, not wanting to deal with his alpha male bullshit, but Stiles and Scott throw me begging looks so I remain - unhappily - seated.

"So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack." Danny brings up the man and the bus. "Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson objects.

"A cougar is a mountain lion." Lydia corrects her boyfriend, staring at her food. Realizing her mistake in showing her brilliance she looks at him with confusion, like every dumb girl in a teen movie. "Isn't it?"

I scoff under my breath, and wince at the glare she throws me. I return it with an air kiss, which she returns.

"Who cares? The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

"Wow, Jackson. You're a wonderful example of a human being." I tell him, completely unimpressed. Even Danny snorts, unaffected by the hurt look his best friend throws him.

"Actually I just found out who it is." Stiles announces, and I peer down at his phone. "Check it out."

He holds it out so the table can see, and everyone leans in. "The Sheriff's Department won't speculate on details of the incident, but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

"I know this guy." I look up at Scott, who continues. "When I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver."

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please." We all look at Lydia. "Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" Allison looks confused, chewing at her lunch. Lydia looks at her. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

Scott looks at Allison, who is just as lost as he is. Swallowing, she turns to her friend. "Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do."

"Well, I am not sitting home again watching Lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun."

"H-hanging out?" Scott asks Allison, who's busy drinking some water. She gives and awkward look and I shrug. "Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?"

"Yeah, I guess?" Allison shrugs, a cute look on her lost face. "Sounds fun." She smiles at Lydia.

"You know what else sounds fun?" I look over at Jackson, who's gripping his fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

"So do it." I tell him with an innocent smile, Lydia unfortunately snatching the utensil from his hand. She gasps.

"How about bowling? You love to bowl." She suggests.

"Yeah, with actual competition." Jackson complains.

"How do you know we're not 'actual competition'?" Allison asks. "You can bowl, right?" She asks her boyfriend. Scott grimaces.

"Sort of."

"Is it 'sort of' or 'yes'?" Jackson asks, leaning forward with a smug look on his face.

"Yes. In fact, I'm a great bowler." I nearly choke on the last of my noodles, Allison quickly handing me an extra water bottle.

"God, so much testosterone." I crumple up the rest of my garbage. "Thanks Alli, well, I'm off."

"What, is it Senior Ditch Day already?" Jackson sasses.

I shake my head. "You know, you really aren't that funny. Or cool. But I am, because my last class of the day ended before lunch."

"You're not staying to study at the library?" Lydia asks as I get up.

I shake my head. "Nope. Bye, kiddos." I wave and throw my trash away, exiting the cafeteria and leaving that train wreck behind.

God, even with all this werewolf crap, I'm still so happy I'm a damn senior so I don't have to deal with all that underclassmen machismo.

* * *

"Scott, buddy, calling for some bowling tips?" I ask.

He snorts on the other end._ "No. But I'm going to see Derek Hale, and I really don't want to go alone."_

"So call Stiles."

"What, are you scared?"

I sigh. "No, I'm just in my pyjamas, watching _One Tree Hill_."

_"Well, then you're not too busy to at least drive me?"_

"Oh, so now I'm your chauffeur? Un-freakin'-believable."

Scott laughs. _"Sorry. But you're the toughest person I know, even in your fluffy bunny pajamas." _I groan, looking down at the bunnies on said pajama pants.

"Fine. But I'm not changing."

_"Yes! See you in a few. I just have to see my mom." _I hang up and groan, getting up to put on a sports bra and my Cyclones sweater - purchased for school spirit, of course - feet slipping into my bunny slippers.

Danneel Harris's character is just driving Haley and Nathan's limo over the bridge when Scott calls me, breathing heavily.

"Dude, how fast did you ride?"

_"It's not that. I-I saw Mr. Meyers at the hospital. He was totally freaking out and then he grabbed onto me, like he wanted me to save him!"_

"But you thought you did that to him?"

_"Yeah, which is why I'm freaked out and confused."_

"Okay, okay, I'm heading down now." I close my computer and shut my bedroom lights, walking downstairs. My dad's watching TV, Chase and Clark doing their homework in front of him.

"Where are you off to like that, kid?" My dad asks, assessing my outfit.

I laugh. "Out to hang with Scott."

"Alright. Remember, there's a curfew tonight."

"Okay!" I shout, closing and locking the door behind me. Scott rushes over, pulling my smaller form into a hug. "Man, Mr. Meyers really scared you, huh?"

"Yeah. We have to see Derek. Where do you think he'll be?"

I sigh. "Most likely the Hale House. He wouldn't want to stray to far from his den."

"Den?"

"Wolf behavior, hon." I tell him, opening my trunk. "Come on, load in your bike." With some adjustment we manage to fit it in, and I lock it up before climbing into the Impala.

"You trying to impress someone?" Scott asks, breaking the tense silence as we make the drive to the Preserve. I start laughing uncontrollably, and he joins in.

"Our lives are ridiculous."

"Tell me about it. I'm a werewolf, and we're about to ask Derek Hale for help. After we got him arrested. And dug up the remains of his dead sister."

"And you have a girlfriend."

"I have a girlfriend. And you're actually single for once."

I laugh some more, hitting his shoulder. "Well, after the last guy I realized I can wait until college."

"Greenberg." Scott snorts, and I drive through the clearing towards the Hale house.

"No bringing up Greenberg. I was going through an identity crisis." He guffaws, but it dies down when I park the car. He gets out first, and I awkwardly follow him, closing my door.

"I know you can hear me." Scott finally says, staring up at the house. "I need your help."

I take his arm and lead him up to the front porch, the two of us standing in front of the door as it starts to drizzle. The door opens, and out steps a somewhat impatient Derek, rocking the leather jacket.

"Okay. I know we were a part of you getting arrested and that we basically announced you being here to the hunters -"

"We also don't know what happened to your sister, but I'm betting it wasn't you." I finish for him, getting a look from Derek. He glances over me then snorts, a little meanly.

"You know wolves eat rabbits, right?"

I shrug. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Yeah, I bet you are." Scott nudges me and gives me a look, so I stop staring at the incredibly attractive werewolf and instead focus on the puppy next to me.

"I think I did something last night." Scott admits. "I had a dream about… someone. But someone else got hurt. And it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened."

"You think you attacked the driver?" Derek asks.

"Did you see what I did last night?"

"No."

"Can you at least tell me the truth?" Scott asks. "Am I gonna hurt someone?"

Derek sighs. "Yes."

"Could I kill someone?"

"Yes."

"Am I gonna kill someone?"

"Probably."

I frown up at him. "God, why are you so pessimistic? You don't even know Scott!"

"No." He growls at me. "But I know werewolves. Sooner or later, someone you love gets hurt, and in the end, you're the one who caused it."

Something in his green eyes tells me what he knows goes beyond the deaths of his sister and most of his family. I almost want to ask, but considering we did just get him arrested I back off. "Fine." I mutter, stepping back a little.

Derek walks up to Scott, looking less menacing. "Look, I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But it's not gonna come for free."

"What do you want?"

"You'll find out. But for now, I'm gonna give you what you want. Go back to the bus. Go inside. See it, feel it. Let your senses - your sight, smell, touch - let them remember for you."

"That's it? Just-just go back?" Scott asks.

"Do you want to know what happened?"

"I just want to know if I hurt him."

But Derek seems to be pretty good at sniffing out bullshit. "No, you don't. You want to know if you'll hurt her. And Stiles. And Patricia." He looks at me, green eyes narrowed. "And he will. And you won't be able to defend yourself in time."

I narrow my blue eyes and walk up to him, unintimidated by the fact he's a foot taller than me. "I'm made of more than you think. I may not be a werewolf, but I am a fighter." With that I turn around, pulling Scott with me.

"You know, maybe you'd be more scary if you weren't wearing pyjamas." Scott balks at the glare at my face and gets in the Impala. I turn to glare up at Derek, who only nods before entering his ruined home.

* * *

That night I sit in the backseat of Stiles's Jeep, the boys in the front. Of course, I swapped my bunny slippers and fluffy pajama bottoms for my heeled ankle boots and a pair of flexible jeans.

We pull up to the school, the giant gates closed and locked up. We get out and follow Scott, who stops us. "Hey, no, just me. Someone needs to keep watch."

Stiles frowns. "How come we're always the guys keeping watch?"

"Because Pat does what she wants and there's only the two of us left." Scott argues with Stiles, and I roll my eyes in favor of climbing the fence, reaching the other side in record time. Thank goodness for those gymnastics classes my mom made me take. For nearly 12 years. My muscles groan in pain just at the memory of Coach Adams. She was a real tyrant.

"Okay, why is it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin while Ricky prances around as the super hot and useful Wonder Woman? I don't want to be Robin all the time." Stiles gripes, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Nobody's Batman and Robin any of the time!" Scott argues once more, irritated.

"Notice how you didn't say there's no Wonder Woman? That's just rude." I growl at Stiles. "Sorry. But come on, not even some of the time?"

"Just stay here." Scott orders.

"Oh my God! Fine!" Stiles grumbles to himself and walks away from the fence and I wait for Scott to join me. As soon as he does I hand him a pair of latex gloves, sliding on mine as well.

"What's with these?" He asks.

I shrug. "My dad said they may revisit the crime scene. It'd be pretty suspicious if they found our prints."

"Good thinking, as always. And thank you, for coming with me to see Derek. Even in your fluffy clothes."

"Whatever. What are friends for?"

Scott nods, then closes his eyes. I wait for him to open them, and when he does he looks pained. "I heard something howling. I woke up, wolfed out."

"Okay. What happened next?"

He leads me towards the bus, hand pressed against the glass door. He jumps back, seeing something that isn't there. Then he pushes the door so it opens, letting the two of us in. He walks ahead, looking down, his nose sniffing out clues. I close the door behind us, and he looks back at me. "The bus driver was here. He's reaching out for me. But something else is pulling him away."

"So you were watching?"

"I think." He turns back around and walks forwards, hands clasping onto the seats. He stares at a row covered in blood and flinches back, covering his head with his arms. "Som-someone threw something at me." He reaches down, hearing sounds that aren't there, then stumbles back, clutching his chest. He looks at his hands in horror before turning back to me. "It wasn't me." Before he can respond Stiles honks. Noticing approaching lights Scott and I dash out of the bus and towards the Jeep. I screech as Scott grabs me as if I'm a feather and practically leaps over the fence, landing with me bridal style in his arms. He puts me down and we run to the car, quickly climbing in.

"Did it work?" Stiles asks, panicking as he drives away. "Did you remember?"

"Yeah, I was there last night. And the blood. A lot of it was mine." I wince.

"So you did attack him?" Stiles asks.

"No!" Scott objects, confident. "I-I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."

"Derek?" I ask. "Are you sure? Why would he tell you to come check if it was him?"

"I don't know."

"What about the driver?" Stiles asks.

"I think I was actually trying to protect him."

"Which is why he reached for you at the hospital." I guess, patting his shoulder.

"I'm with Ricky. Why would Derek want you to remember that he attacked the driver?"

"That's what I don't get!"

"It's got to be a pack thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Like and initiation. You do the kill together."

I shake my head. "No, there has to be more to that. Why target a complete stranger to get loyalty? Wouldn't Derek have gone after one of us? Make Scott kill one of his friends?"

"Right. Because ripping out someone's throat is a real bonding experience?" Scott sasses Stiles.

Our driver just shakes his head. "Yeah, but you didn't do it. Which means you're not a killer. And it also means that…"

"I can go out with Allison."

Stiles and I look at Scott incredulously. The former just sighs. "I was gonna say it means you won't kill us. You know, me and Ricky?"

"Oh, yeah. That too."

"Boys." I mutter, ripping off my gloves and leaning back in my seat, eyes closed.

* * *

The next day I find myself lying on my bed, arms crossed in thought as I stare up at the ceiling, only to be interrupted by my stomach growling. My dad is working the night shift, and my mom just left to attend a conference in San Francisco. The twins are at their friend's house for a sleepover, which means I get the house all to myself. So, with the realization that there's no more junk food in my not-so-secret stash, I get dressed. Needing gas for my car anyway, I drive to the gas station and fill her up, then drive into the empty lot and get out, walking into the little convenience store attached.

Paul waves at me before returning to his phone, and I browse the shelves for some original Pringles, salt and vinegar chips, cherry Coke, and a bag of Hershey's kisses. After paying the unenthused Paul, I make for the door. But I stop when I see a familiar Camaro pull in to the service station. Derek gets out, filling his car up. Suddenly two cars pull in, essentially trapping him. I watch as Allison's dad - Chris, as he told me to call him - gets out, joined by who I'm guessing are his hunters. I quietly sneak out and find a decent hiding place to film what's going on. There's complete silence as Derek removes the gas pump and puts it back in the slot.

"Nice ride." I hear Chris Argent say, and he's loud enough that my phone picks it up. He must be confident no one else is here. "Black cars, though. Very hard to keep clean." His voice, while calm, exudes an underlying threat. "I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance." He wipes at a spot on the hood of the car.

Chris leans down for the Squeegee in a bucket, pulling it out. I duck down a bit to remain unseen, but make sure my camera is still recording. "If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it, right?" He starts to clean the car. "Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. But that's something I learned from my family. And you don't have much of that these days." He turns to assess the werewolf. "Do you?" He asks. From here I can see Derek clenching his fists in anger, before relaxing. "There we go." He returns the Squeegee. "You can actually look through your windshield now. See how that makes everything _so much clearer_."

He starts to walk away, but Derek stops him. "You forgot to check the oil." Chris turns, a smug look on his face.

"Check the man's oil." His lackey does what he asks, hitting the window over and over with the butt of a heavy-duty gun until the driver's side is covered in glass. "Have a nice night." Chris makes for his car, but I stop the video and run forward.

"Hey!" I yell, and the men all turn to see me, a small blonde with fury in her eyes. Chris Argent looks nervous, but he covers it up.

"Oh, good evening, Patricia. I want to thank you again, for really welcoming Allison."

I smile. "Yes, your daughter is amazingly kind. Unfortunately, I see she doesn't exactly get it from you."

"What do you mean?" He asks, playing stupid.

I don't fall for it, walking up to him and crossing my arms. I raise an eyebrow. "I'm sure you don't know that my mother is Marissa Abernathy, the Hale family lawyer. Now, she's currently away on business, but she'd be interested to hear that you and your little band of Merry Men assaulted her client and caused damage to his vehicle. I can send her this video of you bothering him." I press play, and listen to the recording, the man's face growing slightly worried. "Or you can pay upfront. $1000 should do, for the cost of the new window and trauma." The hunters stare at me in anger, clearly mad that they were caught.

"And if I don't?" Chris Argent asks.

I shrug. "Well, then Allison finds out what her dad thinks he can get away with. And I'm guessing you don't want her to know about… well, any of this mess. Do you?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting. Argent just frowns, before reaching into his wallet and pulling out the money. I hold out my hand and he gives it to me. I count out the amount I demanded and smile innocently, just like my mom does when my dad folds and lets her choose the movie for Family Night. Or like Stiles does, after he's found a way to extort his father. Those two are my greatest teachers in the art of getting your way. "Thank you, _Chris_. Have a good night." They get in the car and drive away, and I turn to the confused Derek.

"Uh, why did you do that?" He asks.

I shrug, and hand him the money. "Maybe I still feel bad for getting you arrested." He takes the bills and I sigh. "Listen, you should call the garage to get this fixed. I'll drive you back."

"Are you sure you want to get in a car with a murderer?" I look up at him, searching his eyes.

"I don't think you're a murderer. I just think you're misunderstood, that's all. Of course, I could be wrong, so let's just call this a truce." I step back. "I'll call them. You go wait by my car. Unless you're scared of a girl half your height?" He just snorts and walks away, giving me one last confused glance. I just go through my contacts and press on Armor Tire and Service Center. As it rings I lift it to my ear, watching the werewolf awkwardly stand by my Impala. "Hi, I'm going to need a pick for a Chevy Camaro 2010 model at the Beacon Hills Gas Station. You know, it's the damnedest thing. The driver side window was smashed in. Ruffians, am I right?"

* * *

We watch as the Armor Tire tow truck drives away, taking Derek's Camaro with it. I turn to the older man and unlock my Impala. "Well, get in. There's a curfew, you know." Surprisingly he does as I ask, and softly closes the door behind him.

"I need you to take me to the Hospital."

"So you can check on the driver you killed?" He tenses, hands balling up into fists. "Don't worry. I don't think you did it. I mean, Stiles is under the impression that was your way of initiating Scott as a werewolf. But come on, why would you have Scott revisit the scene of the crime if you're guilty? And why not have him kill us?"

He relaxes his hands as I drive. "You're perceptive, for a human."

"Thanks. And you're quiet, for a werewolf." He scowls at me. "I'll take you to the hospital if you promise not to hurt the driver. And I'll take you home after. Deal?"

"Why?" He asks, green eyes searching my blue eyes for an answer.

I shrug. "I don't know. But I have this strange feeling that you're lonely, and I'm the only one around offering to be your friend."

"You want to be friends with a murderer?"

I smirk at him. "Could come in handy if I ever want someone taken care of."

There's silence as the drive continues, and I pull into the parking lot of the hospital. Derek gets out without saying a word and I open my bag of chips.

I've barely eaten half when Derek returns, lost in thought as he closes the door behind him and puts on his seatbelt. "Derek?" I ask.

He looks at me. "The driver. He knew me. He knew my name. He said 'I'm sorry'. Then he died." I blink back at him, just as confused. Then I pull out of the lot.

"We'll figure it out."

"'We'?" He asks.

I look at him. "Of course. I'm basically Sherlock Holmes. Just, not a sociopath. I think."

He snorts, and I feel him staring at me as I drive towards the Preserve.

I park in front of his house and get out, grabbing my snacks. He tosses me a look and I shrug. "Listen, I was going to go home, eat crap food, and watch TV. I can still eat crap food, but now we have a problem to solve. And it's cold outside."

"It's not much better inside." Derek points out, opening the front door and leading me in, closing it behind us. I look around the burnt shell of the house, and Derek frowns. "I can smell your pity."

"It isn't pity." I shake my head. "I just… no one should've gone through what you did. And I'm sorry we made it worse."

He nods, accepting my apology and leads me up the stairs, into the remains of a bedroom. Probably his. He sets down a smudged blanket and I sit across from him, chips, drink, and chocolates in front of us. "Oh, I forgot to ask. Werewolves can still eat chocolate, right?"

He rolls his eyes and unwraps a kiss, popping it in his mouth. "Dog jokes. _Hilarious_."

"I thought so." I laugh, and take a sip of my cherry Coke. "So, the driver knew you. Have you ever seen him before?"

"I don't think so." He shakes his head.

I sigh, biting my lip. "Did you recognize his scent?"

"Faintly, but I probably got it off of Scott."

There's silence, then I tilt my head. "I'm just curious. Why did you bite Scott?"

He gives me a look. "I didn't. I can't. I'm not an alpha."

"And only alphas can give the bite?"

"Yes."

I blink. "Oh. Okay, wait, that makes sense. There's an alpha running around the woods of Beacon Hills. It comes across Scott, and bites him. Scott becomes a werewolf. The rogue alpha clearly has no problem with killing." I look up at Derek. "But you already knew that. And you think this alpha killed Laura, don't you?"

He tenses at his sister's name, and frowns at me. "Maybe. It could've been a hunter."

"Except there were bite marks on her legs." I blush when he looks at me. "Scott and I maybe paid a visit to the morgue." He rolls his eyes. I clear my throat. "Sorry. Um, anyway, I'm pretty sure hunter's don't bite. So the alpha killed Laura, and you're trying to find him."

"Yes."

"Woah." I munch on a couple of pringles. "That's some serious stuff right there." I wipe my hands together. "Ok, enough on that. I need to do a different type of detective work. It'll help me figure you out."

Derek sighs. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"When were you born? How old are you?"

"Christmas, 1990. I'm 20, almost 21."

I tilt my head, surprised. "Wow. You look a lot older than that. But you're a Capricorn, which makes sense considering your pessimistic vibe."

"Astrology isn't real." He grumbles, though he does look a little amused.

"And yet, we live in a world where werewolves do." He actually laughs, and I grin when I see his dimples. "So, you're a Christmas baby. Well, I was born September 31, 1993, and I'm almost 18."

"You're a Leo, then."

I raise an eyebrow. "So you do know astrology?"

"I know it well enough to know it's not real. Stars don't tell you who you are."

"No, but they can guide us." I gently tell him, then tuck some blonde hair behind my ears and take another sip of my drink. "Oh, um, what's your favorite color?"

"This helps you how?"

"Oh, it doesn't, I just want to learn more about you."

He nods. "Black."

"No it isn't." I shake my head.

"Fine. It's gold." He looks away, briefly, a little sad.

"I prefer blue." I shrug, and he blinks at me. "It reminds me of water, and clear skies."

"You're a strange girl."

"And you're an even stranger guy."

"Thank you." I look up from where I'm unwrapping another kiss. "For what you did at the gas station. I didn't realize your mom's Marissa."

"I didn't know that she was your family's lawyer." I respond, shifting around. "But I'm glad she is. Do you know her?"

"I met her a few times, when I was younger. She would hang out with my mom."

I smile, thinking back. "I remember. Talia. I think I met her a few times when I was out with my mom. She seemed nice, but stern." I look at him. "She reminded me of my mom."

Derek smiles sadly, staring off into the distance. "She was. And she was fierce, and smart. She was the leader of our pack, and now that's all gone. I'm the only one left. Well, who can do anything."

"Your uncle, right? He's still healing?"

Derek nods. "Yeah."

"How did the fire happen?" Before he can answer, his whole body shifts, ears twitching. "What's wrong?"

"Scott's here. He's angry." Derek turns to me and helps me stand, larger hands clutching mine. "You need to keep your distance."

"You aren't going to hurt me."

Derek shakes his head. "No, I won't."

Before I can question him, I hear my best friend yell, "Derek! I know you're here! And I know you have Patty! I know what you did!"

Derek lets go of me, tensing. "I didn't do anything." His voice echoes through the house.

"You killed him!"

"He died." Derek's body gets tenser, and I reach out to rest my hand on his back, but stop myself. I hear Scott start walking up the stairs.

"Like your sister died?"

"My sister was missing. I came here looking for her."

"You found her."

"In pieces!" Derek yells, and I press my hand on his back, feeling his whole body trembling. "Being used as bait to catch me!"

"I think you killed them both. I'm gonna tell everyone, starting with the Sheriff. And Patty's dad is going to hear that you took her."

"Scott! He didn't take me!" I yell, hoping to put an end to the situation. "He didn't kill anyone!"

But it's too late. Derek storms out of the room and pushes Scott down the stairs. I run after him and see my best friend groaning on the ground as the Hale jumps down to face off against the wolfed-out Scott. My best friend throws Derek through a wall and I run down the steps, bounding past him to help Derek up. The werewolf just presses past me, rolling his shoulders back as he takes off his leather jacket, which I pick up as I walk towards the hole in the wall.

"That was cute." He comments, rolling his neck and shifting. He turns to me, eyes glowing blue and thick eyebrows gone, his ears slightly pointed. He lets out his own primal roar. Scott runs to him and suddenly they're throwing each other around the room, crashing around the ruins of the living room while I move out of the way, running towards the front door. I make to leave, but realize I can't. I don't have it in me to leave them behind, especially not Scott. He wouldn't leave me.

I turn back around and watch Derek throw Scott over what looks like an old chest. When Scott tries to attack he punches him in the gut. My best friend groans, stumbling back, and I rush forward to catch him and carefully sit him down. Derek shifts back and turns to look at us, panting. Scott groans by my side but looks back at him, no longer wolfed-out.

"I didn't kill him. Neither of us did!" Derek tries to explain once more. "It's not your fault, and it's not mine."

"This?" Scott asks, yelling. "This is all your fault!" He gets up to scream in Derek's face. "You ruined my life!"

"No, I didn't." Derek grits out.

"You're the one who bit me!"

"No, I'm not."

"What?!"

I stand. "It's true, Scott." Scott turns to me, calming down a bit before looking at Derek.

He leans forward. "I'm not the one that bit you."

Scott then touches the blood on his chest, clearly remembering something. He eventually settles down on the remains of a couch. "There's another."

Derek nods. "It's called an alpha. It's the most dangerous of our kind. You and I, we're betas. This thing is more powerful, more animal than either of us. My sister came her looking for him. Now I'm trying to find him. But I don't think I can do it without you."

"Why me?" Scott asks.

"Because he's the one that bit you. You're part of his pack. It's you, Scott. You're the one he wants."


	4. Magic Bullet

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way (such as the timeline since that's as messy as the one for the _X-Men_ film franchise), but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all. **

* * *

Even though I don't have class, I decide to study in the school library until the boys get out, their practice having been canceled today. I'm the only one there, pouring through old essays and doing research for a report I have to do on physics in the 1800s. The bell rings, signaling the end of the day and I check out what I need, carrying the books in my arms as I only brought my side purse, having no need for a backpack.

Stiles drove me to school, so I meet up with him by his Jeep. "What, was a cart not available?"

"Shut up." He unlocks the car and I toss the books in the backseat, sliding on my seatbelt. We start to drive, until a familiar man steps in front of the car, holding his hand up. Stiles stomps on the breaks and I rush out, catching Derek as he stumbles. Unfortunately, we both still end up on the ground. "Oh my God, what happened?" I ask, wincing at the added weight. Derek's a big guy, after all.

"What the hell?" Scott asks, coming to where Derek is leaning against me. Stiles gets out of the Jeep. "What are you doing here?"

"I was shot."

"He's not looking so good, dudes." Stiles helpfully points out over the sounds of various cars honking.

"Why aren't you healing?" I ask, propping him up more.

"I can't. It was… It was a different kind of bullet." He pants out.

"A silver bullet?"

Derek glares up at Stiles. "No, you idiot."

"Wait, wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours." Scott looks off in the distance.

"Who?" I ask.

"The one who shot him." Derek groans, closing his eyes in pain. He opens them, and they change from neon blue to forest green rapidly.

"What are you doing? Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't." The werewolf grits out at Scott.

"Derek, get up." My best friend orders. I try to help Derek stand, but he's too heavy. Scott comes in to save the day as people start getting out of their cars. "Help me put him in the Jeep." I nod and open the door, first crawling into the back and then easing Derek into the passenger seat.

"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used."

Scott blinks at him. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"'Cause she's an Argent, she's with them." Derek refers to Allison, and I look at Scott worriedly.

"Why should I help you?"

"Because you need me."

Scott sighs. "Fine. I'll try." He looks at Stiles, who's behind the wheel. "Get him out of here."

"I hate you for this so much." He starts the car and drives away, and I slip off my cardigan, groaning. Cashmere. But then I look at the paling Derek and all issues with it getting ruined are pushed aside.

"Give me your arm." I gently request, and he nods, turning and peeling off his leather jacket. I press the cardigan against the wound, holding it down. He winces. "I know, I know, I'm sorry."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Stiles turns to briefly glare at me. "You made friends with Derek Hale?"

I smirk, pressing against the wound some more. "It's a work in progress."

* * *

Only twenty minutes have passed since we started to drive, and Stiles is only getting more impatient. The response he gets from the text to Scott clearly agitates him, and he tosses his phone down. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, alright."

"Stiles, I'll clean it out if I have to." I argue for Derek, my cardigan now soaked through. He starts panting more, and I try to put on a smile. "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

"We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Asks Derek.

Stiles sighs. "Your house."

"What. No, you can't take me there."

"Why not? Ricky can take care of you."

"Ricky?"

"Patricia."

Derek looks at me. "That's a terrible nickname. Why do you let him call you that?"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up."

"And why can't I take you to your own house?" Stiles asks, incredulous.

"I can't protect myself. Or Patricia."

"Patty." I correct.

"_Patty_." He glares over at me.

"And I don't need protection. My dad's a deputy, he made sure I could protect myself." I tell the werewolf, who rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, self-defense teachers aren't the same as hunters. They aren't the ones trying to kill you."

"Not, the teachers I had." I wince at the memory of Shane Michaels knocking me down after I failed to use his momentum against him.

Derek snorts, but it's pained. "Still not the same thing. Hunters have guns."

Finally losing it, Stiles pulls over. "All right." He shuts off the Jeep. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

"Please tell me you're not dying." I tell, Derek, who throws me a toothy grin.

"I'm not dying?" I raise an eyebrow at his question of an answer. "Not yet."

"Damn it, Derek."

"Hey, this isn't my fault!" He yells at me, and I jump a bit. "I have a last resort."

"What do you mean?" Stiles flips out. "What last resort?" Derek rolls back his sleeve, removing my cardigan from his arm. Stiles and I groan at the sight of the blood trickling out of the small hole in his forearm. "Oh my God, what is that?" Stiles asks, completely revolted. "Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

"Stiles!" I yell, making the boy jump and the werewolf cover his ear. "Sorry." I bunch up the cardigan once more and press gently against the wound, and he growls in pain. "I know, I know, I'm sorry."

After panting for a few moments, Derek looks at Stiles. "Start the car. Now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders the way you look, okay. In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road, and leave you for dead."

Derek grits his teeth. "Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth."

Stiles looks at him, then turns away, starting the Jeep back up. I smile to myself and dab at the wound, Derek's free hand clutching my forearm. But not in a painful way. It makes me feel warm, and if it wasn't for the blood seeping out of his wound I'd be more focused on the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

* * *

We're still driving around town when I get a call from my mom. Shushing the still griping Stiles I answer. "Hey, mom. What's up?"

_"Where are you, young lady? You said you'd be back after school."_

I grimace. "Sorry, mama. Um, Stiles and I decided to go for a drive?"

_"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"_

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you lawyering me?"

_"Absolutely. No call, no text, you do realize a girl was found dead, right?"_

"Yeah. Laura Hale." There's silence on the other line. "But you knew that. Because you're the lawyer for the Hale family lawyer."

_"Are you lawyering me?"_ I laugh.

"I learned from the best." I sigh. "Sorry. Stiles knows I'm stressed, so we're just driving. We may go to the diner just outside of town." I nod at Stiles, who takes over.

"Yo, mama A!"

My mom laughs. _"Hi Stiles, take care of my daughter."_

"You know I will, mama A."

I put the phone back to my ear. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I know I should've. Love you, mom."

_"I love you, too. And hey, I know you're gonna have questions. About, you know…"_

"Yeah." My mom and I can practically read each other's thoughts. We're close like that. "When I get home."

_"My curious little detective. Alright, stay safe pumpkin."_

"You too, mama." She hangs up and I groan, rubbing my temples. "God."

"Hey, now that your issue is solved, maybe we can deal with this one?" Stiles practically yells at me, and I roll my eyes. I check on Derek's wound, wincing at the steady blood flow.

"Please tell me you're feeling better." I plead.

"I don't think… you'll appreciate my lie." I narrow my eyes.

"I may if you keep getting worse." I look up to see the sky growing darker, and darker.

Stiles pulls over, and decides to call Scott, frustrated at the lack of texts. "Scott!"

I hear something from the other line.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles sighs, listening to our best friend. "By the way, he's starting to smell. Like death." Another pause. "What about your boss?" Stiles sighs once more. "You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you." Stiles passes his phone to Derek without even looking. The werewolf takes it from his hand and puts the device against his ear.

"Did you find it?... Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, all right." Derek looks at me, but I quickly glance down to keep pressing my cardigan against his arm. "Then think about this. The alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill with him, or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." Derek hangs up and gives the phone back to Stiles, who pockets it.

"Where are we going?" I ask, removing the cardigan from the wound.

"The Animal Clinic. Don't worry. I have the keys." He holds up the copy he made, and I laugh.

"My clever Watson."

"Holmes." He responds, winking at me. We peel off into the night, the dying werewolf groaning.

* * *

The moment Stiles opens the back gate to the clinic, the dogs inside start barking. Derek walks in and plops down onto some bags of dog food, completely out of breath. "Does 'Nordic Blue Monkshood' mean anything to you?" Stiles asks.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane… he has to bring me the bullet." He moans out. I kneel down beside him and dab at his forehead with the sleeve of my longsleeve shirt, the sweat wetting the thin material.

"Why?"

"Cause I'm gonna die without it." I reel back in shock, and he nods at me. "It's true."

"Well, let's hope he gets here in time. Come on." I help Derek stand up, and he starts to peel of his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and toned abs. And if this wasn't a completely awful situation, I'd probably just focus on how in shape he is. But now isn't the time.

Stiles flips on the lights and the room fills with a buzzing noise. Derek walks over to the metal table and puts his injured arm down.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles tries to optimistically point out.

Derek ignores him, though. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." I stare at the bulging veins around the bullet hole, clutching Stiles's arm. Derek pants and turns his back to us to pilfer through Dr. Alan Deaton's supplies, showing off the large three-spiraled tattoo in between his shoulder blades.

"'Positivity' just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asks, and we watch Derek go through the wooden cabinets.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time…" he slams the door closed, then goes through some drawers, "last resort." He pants out.

"Which is?" I ask, leaning forward.

Derek turns around, holding up a bonesaw. "One of you is gonna cut off my arm." I start to gag.

"Not it." I mutter, getting a hurt look from Stiles.

Derek starts to wrap a tourniquet band around his arm, right at his bicep. Stiles and I watch in disgust. Stiles takes the handheld bonesaw and gags, setting it down.

"What if you bleed to death?

"It'll heal if it works." Derek mutters around the band in his mouth.

"Ugh, look… I don't know if either of us can do this." Stiles speaks up.

"Why not?" Derek growls.

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

"You faint at the sight of blood?!" Derek yells at us. I jump.

"No, but we might at the sight of a chopped off arm." Stiles sasses, but it's less cutting thanks to the green tinge in his face.

Derek sighs. "All right, fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head."

"Okay, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any-" Derek cuts Stiles up by grabbing the collar of his shirts and pulling him to it, threatening him. "Oh my god, okay, totally, I'll do it. I'll do it. What, what are you doing?" Derek gags, and throws up black goo all over the floor. "Holy God, what the hell is that?" I run around the other side of the table to rub Derek's back, helping him get everything out.

"It's my body," he starts to explain, "trying to heal itself."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job at it."

"Now." Derek looks up at Stiles. "You gotta do it now."

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can."

"Just do it!" Derek yells. I sigh.

"I'll do it. Give me the saw." I hold out my hand and walk around, "Oh my God, okay." I mutter to myself, just about to throw up. I hold the bonesaw to the spot just under the tourniquet, getting ready to perform my first and hopefully only operation.

But just as I'm about to get it started, we hear Scott's voice. "Stiles? Pat?"

"Scott?" Stiles calls, and our friend runs into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott asks me, and I set down the bonesaw immediately.

"Uh… his idea." I point to Derek.

Stiles laughs. "Oh you just saved me from a lifetime of nightmares."

"Did you get it?" Derek asks. Scott riffles through his pocket then hands the long bullet to the other werewolf. He holds it up in the light.

"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles asks.

"I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" Derek collapses and the bullet rolls away.

"No, no, no!" Scott yells, chasing after it. While he tries to pick it back up Stiles kneels down by Derek's unconscious form.

"Derek?" He grabs his face, then slaps at it. "Derek, come on, wake up. Scott what the hell are we gonna do it."

"Move!" I tell Stiles, and he shuffles back. Remembering my First Aid training I start the chest compressions. "Come on, Derek. Come on."

"He's not waking up!" Stiles tells Scott, who groans and keeps reaching for where the bullet fell. "I think he's dying. I think he's dead!"

"Shut up!" I yell, then continues the chest compressions.

"Just hold on!" A few moments later, Scott straightens. "I got it! I got it!"

Stiles pushes me out of the way. "Please don't kill me for this." He punches Derek in the face, finally waking him up. As Stiles shakes out his fist I help Derek stand, and lead him over to the table. He bites at the tip of the casing and pulls it apart, spilling the wolfsbane on the table before pulling out a lighter and setting it on fire. As it sizzles and sparks Derek scoops it into his hand and shoves it onto the bullet hole, fingering it in and screaming in pain. Blue smoke filters out and he collapses on the ground once more. Stiles and Scott hold me back as he continues to scream, writhing on the concrete floor. Finally, the wound starts to heal.

"That… was… awesome!" Stiles yells, getting a glare from Scott and I. "Yes!"

"Are you okay?" Scott asks as Derek starts to stand, and I rush forward to help him untie the tourniquet.

"Well, accept for the agonizing pain." I snort, bunching the tourniquet in my hand,

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles sasses as I help Derek stand. I cross over to the table to grab the bonesaw and return the supplies to where they belong.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone, you got that?" Scott asks, frustrated. "And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"Scott!" I yell, but before I can finish, Derek interrupts me.

"You're gonna trust them? You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not? They're a lot freakin' nicer than you are!"

Derek flares his nostrils. "Yeah. I can show you exactly how nice they are."

* * *

Stiles and I were left behind as Derek led Scott away from the clinic. We cleaned up the room as best we could, Stiles practically vomiting as I cleaned up the black sludge with a mop. Finally we locked up, and Stiles took me home.

I walk into the house, closing the door behind me. My mom sits at the kitchen table, files in front of her. "I'm sorry I'm late. And that I forgot to text you. Again."

My mom pushes up her glasses and opens a pizza box, revealing the meat lover's special. I happily dig in, and she leans forward. "Where were you really?"

"I told you." I swallow. "Driving with Stiles."

"And if I were to ask how Derek Hale is doing?"

I look up at her in shock, a piece of pepperoni falling down onto the table. "How did you know?"

"Please." She waves her hand. "I've known that kid since he was, well, since he was born. His mom was a childhood friend."

"You never talk about her."

She sighs and crosses her arms. "What happened to that family… no one deserves it. Especially not them. They were special." I tilt my head, as if I have no idea what she's pretending not to know, and she waves me off. "Oh, nevermind. Look, my point is, Derek's a good guy. I don't believe for a second he has anything to do with his sister's death."

"Stiles told me that Sheriff Stilinski said they found wolf hairs on her. Which means it was an animal attack." I look at the box next to her, and blink. "And you have the files. Copies of them."

"Yes. I just want to be prepared for everything."

"So, you don't think it was an animal attack?"

"Not in the way the other deputies do. Or the Sheriff."

"What about dad?" I ask, leaning back in my chair.

Mom sighs, and runs a hand through her hair. "Your dad was friends with the Hales, too. For a long time. His and Talia's grandparents were close."

I blink. "Okay. But what does that have to do with the potential murderer?"

My mom laughs. "Nothing, nothing. Ignore me, I'm exhausted. You must be, too. Why don't you go to bed? I'll clean up."

I nod and finish my slice, getting up to wash my hands. Kissing her on the forehead I walk away. I turn around once I reach the stairs, to look back at her. My mom has her hands on her face, shoulders tense.

She and my dad know something. Something the rest of Beacon Hills is unaware of. They know the Hale family was "special." Don't they?

But that's not the question I want to ask the most. It's this: _Are they a part of the secret?_


	5. The Tell

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way (such as the timeline since that's as messy as the one for the _X-Men_ film franchise), but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all. **

* * *

I sit in my room, the moonlight shining in and helping to brighten my room, as my desk lamp is dim. The rest of my family is asleep, my dad taking full advantage of his day off. It honestly isn't that late, barely 9:30, but my mom's been exhausted ever since Derek was arrested - again, _our bad _\- and the twins are eight which means they're worse if they don't get at least nine hours of rest.

I lean back against the headboard of my full size bed, flipping through my old copy of _Anna Karenina_. Something knocks against my window and I jump, clutching my book to my chest. A figure rests against it, and Derek gestures for me to open the window.

With a relieved sigh I get off my bed and let him in, closing the window behind me. "God, you scared me. What the hell are you doing here?"

"The alpha killed the manager of the Video 2*C."

"When?" I ask, sitting next to him on the bed, legs crossed.

"An hour ago. I'm surprised your dad wasn't called in."

"He's had doubles the past week. According to my mom, finding out who murdered your sister is pretty important to him. Especially because his grandmother and your great-grandmother were friends." Derek looks at me in shock. "What? Surprised I know? My mom told me. Well, she didn't tell me everything. I know that she knew your mom most of her life. They were friends. Good friends. I know your family didn't deserve what happened to them, especially because of how _special_ they were." I look up at Derek, hands folded in my lap. "She told me you're a good guy."

He snorts. "And what do you think?"

"I think she's right. Actually, I know she's right. Even if Scott and Stiles don't agree."

"Aren't they supposed to be your best friends?"

"And they are. Hell, they're more like my brothers. But it doesn't mean I always have to see things their way. I'm my own person." Derek nods. "I need to know something. Are my parents… are they special too? Like you, and your family? Because there's something they aren't telling me, and I get the feeling you lied about how well you know my mom."

Derek sighs and stands, turning to the window. "I should go."

"Damn it, can't you just be honest with me?" I ask, but remain quiet so I don't wake my parents and alert them to the fact there's a guy in my room.

He stops in his tracks, and I watch his reflection. He sighs and turns to look at me. "You should get some rest. Don't you have parent/teacher conferences tomorrow?"

I tilt my head. "How did you know?"

"Scott."

I nod, as if that answers my question. "No, I don't. My parents trust I'm on top of my shit. I only have to show up to AP Physics sixth period, so you have plenty of time to tell me what my parents won't."

Derek sighs again, and I sit on my bed. He pulls my pink rolly chair away from my desk and sits on it to stare into my eyes, neither of us blinking. "Your parents, as far as I can smell, are human."

"Oh."

"But," I look up at him, "someone in your family wasn't. Your dad's grandmother. And she passed down the gene. It's been dormant for three generations now." I nod. "Your great grandmother was a Löwenmenschen. She came from a pack that had migrated to America from Germany in 1670."

"How do you know?"

"Because your dad used to tell my family stories of the long-lost species. You see, his grandmother had been the last known one."

I don't know much about about Diane Abernathy. All I know about her was that she lived in Beacon Hills and was a terrible cook, but an excellent baker.

"And my mom?"

"Completely human. But she was a member of the pack, being the family lawyer and my mom's best friend."

"Then why did they keep me out of your life? Why hadn't we met before Scott was bit?" I ask, then stand up, completely frustrated. "How could they not tell me?"

"Well, maybe they thought they didn't need to. I mean, it's not like there were any active werewolves around Beacon Hills after the fire. Maybe they were going to tell you when you were old enough, but thought you'd be safer not being involved?"

"Well, it's too late for that." I storm over to my bookshelf, arms crossed in annoyance. All I can think is that they kept the truth from me. Even now, when they know something supernatural is happening. Do they seriously think I'll be safer if I remained ignorant?

I barely jump when I feel Derek's hand on my shoulder. I just turn to look up at his concerned face. "Thank you. For telling me." He nods. "I have to know, though. Am I human?"

Derek just makes a face. "I honestly don't know."

Well. That's reassuring. "Great. When will you figure it out?"

"When I do. You'll be the first to know." I nod. "Now, back to the issue at hand…"

"Sorry, you were telling me about the attack before my own personal issues took over. Did you catch the alpha's scent?"

He sits down on my bed and I join him once more. "No. The place was too crowded. It felt familiar, though. Just a little bit. But he's so angry any other natural scent is difficult to pick up."

"Natural scent?"

"Yeah. Everyone has one. Werewolves pick up on it, along with heartbeats. It's how we find our packmates. Especially the humans."

I nod. "Okay. Now, a pack. I know there's an alpha, and they have betas, like you and Scott. How many are there usually?" I ask, concerned if the alpha terrorizing Beacon Hills is planning to make more.

"It depends on the pack. Sometimes there's only one, sometimes there's twenty."

"What about omegas? Are they the lowest level?"

Derek shakes his head, slightly amused. "No. Omegas are dangerous. They don't have a pack. They're alone, and oftentimes that loneliness manifests into an intense bloodlust. They're angry and lost."

I look into his green eyes. "Are you an omega?" I ask.

He stares right back at me, as if looking into my soul. "I don't want to be."

"Then you won't. I told you, we're friends now." I gently take his hand. "And if our families were pack, doesn't that mean the same for us."

Derek tilts his head, but squeezes back. "I guess so. Patty."

And the future never looked brighter.

* * *

With a sigh I close I step into the nearly empty hallway, walking towards the front door. AP Physics was surprisingly easy today, and those extra few hours I spent in the school's library really helped me focus on my homework.

After shoving the completed working into my locker, I leave the building. Hearing the chorus of _That's Not My Name _by The Ting Tings singing from my tucked away phone, I pull it out of my bag.

"Watson." I answer, having not spoken to him all day. There's just… there's a lot on my mind.

_"Holmes! Thank god!"_ I stop just outside the school doors.

"What's wrong?"

_"Scott is totally MIA, not answering his phone. He wasn't at school all day, and neither was Allison."_ I tilt my head, thinking, then remember Allison's "big secret."

"Oh, dude, it's her birthday. They're probably out being romantic."

_"All day?"_

I laugh and walk to my car, one of the last in the lot. "You get a girlfriend and then tell me you won't want to skip class to be with her."

_"Shut up. And now I'm even more pissed, because this is more important!"_ I stop laughing at his harsh, panicked tone, and immediately get serious.

"What happened?"

_"Finally!"_

"Stiles, don't you dare make me say your real name."

He sighs, and I hear his bed creak as he presumably sits on it. _"Okay, so you know how the manager at 2*C was killed by the alpha last night?"_

"Yeah, yeah. My dad told me all about it." I lie.

_"Uh, your dad wasn't there."_

"No, he called me after he got to the station, telling me to be safe." I cover.

_"Oh. Anyway, Jackson and Lydia were there. Jackson came to school, but he was a damn ticking time bomb of anxiety ready to go off at any minute. Lydia wasn't even there!"_

"Lydia Martin stayed home instead of going to school?"

_"Again, not the point."_ I nod and put him on speaker, starting the drive back home. _"I went to go see her, and she said she saw something. She was on a bunch of relaxants though so she didn't make any sense and was basically just repeating what I said. Then she called me Jackson and passed out."_

I snort. "Tough break, buddy. So what's the point?"

_"The point is I have her phone, with the video of the alpha running out of the video store."_

"Oh damn. Okay, I'll be home soon. We'll figure this out."

_"Thanks."_ He hangs up and I sigh.

Parking my car in the driveway, I forgo entering my house and instead dash across the road and knock on the Stilinski house door. The Sheriff opens it, out of uniform. "Well, if it isn't Holmes. How are ya, kid?" He pulls me into a hug and I return it, smiling.

"I'm good, Mr. Stilinski."

We break apart and he lets me in. "How's your last semester going?"

I shrug. "Just counting down the days until graduation."

Noah laughs, throwing his head back. "Honestly, I don't know what Stiles and Scott are gonna do without you next year."

"I'm still gonna be across the street." I remind him, and he waves me off.

"Aw, kid, you know it won't be the same." Noah looks a little nostalgic. "I remember when you two were little. You used to drive us all crazy, always going on random scavenger hunts and secret spy missions."

I laugh, remembering the gear we used to "borrow" from our dads. "Yeah. Those were the days."

Noah sighs, and rubs his face. "Well, I'm off. Stiles is upstairs, I'm sure he has money for pizza."

"Okay, Noah!"

He ruffles my hair then walks to the front door, pulling on his jacket. He briefly turns around. "Oh, and tell your mom I have more files for her."

"Got it!" I give him a thumbs up and he waves, closing the door behind him. And with that I'm running up the stairs and giving the secret knock. On the other side I hear Stiles stumbling, and finally he opens the door.

"What the hell took you so long?" He panics, and I snort.

"Okay, calm down. Give me the phone." He hands it to me and I unlock it.

"You know her password?"

"Mhmm." I find the video and watch it before sending it to myself. Once my phone receives the message I save the video, then go back into Lydia's phone and delete her latest message to me.

"There. Why were you panicking?" I ask. Stiles sighs and grabs the phone, looking at the video. It ends, and he clicks a few buttons. "What are you doing?"

"Deleting the video!"

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because she can't remember what she saw! I don't want her to be all messed up because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Stiles yells, jumping up from his desk.

I sigh, and take his hand. "I know you care about her. And you know I'll do my best to keep her safe. We all will. But we shouldn't lie to her."

"Sometimes a lie can save a life."

"And sometimes it can drive us crazy." _Like the secret my parents may be hiding_. I grab Lydia's phone and start to walk out his door.

"Where are you going?"

I wave the phone at him. "To give her back her phone."

I roll my eyes at his pleading, shutting the front door behind me.

The ride to Lydia's takes less time than usual. And to be honest, I may have been speeding but evidently the Sheriff's Department doesn't care, because no one stops me. Budget cuts, I suppose.

Getting out I rush up to her front door and calmly knock. Mrs. Martin answer, looking irritated. Her expression morphs into confusion. "Oh. Hi, Patricia. I'm afraid Lydia's resting."

"I just wanted to check on her, if that's okay? I just got out of practice."

"Sure, I don't see why not. Just make it quick, her father and I have to leave for parent/teacher conferences."

"Of course. Thank you!" I wave to Lydia's irritated father as I pass him, lightly bounding up the steps. When I reach her room I silently open her door. "Lyds?" She only mumbles and pokes her head up. "Hey, I just wanted to see you."

"Pretty Patty. _Trisha-Wisha_." I snort at her loopiness, then walk over to her bed. She closes her eyes and I take that moment to put her phone on her bedside table.

"Yeah, Lyds. Listen, I'm going to go. But I want you to feel better, yeah?"

"Mmm. Bye-bye Paddy." I snort once more and kiss her temple before leaving her room, shutting the door behind me. Downstairs the Martins are waiting by the door.

"How is she?" Mrs. Martin asks nervously. I smile.

"Oh, she's resting. She only woke up for a moment. She's a strong girl." I don't miss the scoff from Lydia's father and turn to glare at him, narrowing my eyes in disgust. He only smirks, and I turn to the embarrassed Mrs. Martin. "Well, have a good night. Be careful!"

"You too, dear!" I nod and leave the house, getting back in my car. I watch as Mr. and Mrs. Martin argue all the way to their cars, and once again remember why Lydia's built up so many walls.

* * *

"Yes Stiles, I returned it. No, she didn't remember seeing you. Yes, I'm sure she would've appreciated the company if she wasn't high as a kite." I tell Stiles over the phone, lying on my bed completely exhausted.

Stiles sighs._ "Thanks, Ricky. Hey, I'm going through the records from the Hale House fire. I sent some pictures of them to your email if you want to look through them, too."_

"Wow, you are sneaky, Watson." He laughs.

_"I learned from the best, Holmes."_

I make an offended noise. "How dare you? Me, sneaky? Blasphemy!"

_"Shut up, Ricky."_

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, I'm gonna go through the info. You just keep calm."

_"Sure. Keep calm. Especially because Scott still hasn't called me back, after being MIA all day."_

"Come on, Stiles, everything's fine."

_"Everything is not fine, our best friend's a werewolf!"_ My window suddenly slams open, and I turn with wide eyes to see Derek crawling in, out of breath. Considering my window stares out into Stiles I quickly tug the older man onto the carpeted ground, waving at Stiles as he looks out in worry._ "Oh my God, are you okay? Why is your window open?"_

"Oh, um, sorry. I needed fresh air, and there was this bird that wouldn't stop chirping." Derek scowls at me and I narrow my eyes at him in response, playfully sticking out my tongue.

_"Right. Okay. Well, I'm going to keep investigating. Later, skater!"_ Stiles hangs up and waves at me before closing his blinds. I shut my window and press my face against the glass.

"God, that was close." I move the curtains so they're back in place and watch as Derek sits on my bed, groaning. _"What are you doing here?"_

_"I thought we were pack."_

_"Next time call, like people usually do! What if I was naked!"_

_"Why are you whispering?" _

_"Because my mom is downstairs with the boys!"_

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. "Honey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine! I'm all good!" I turn to Derek and gesture for him to hide under the bed. He rolls his eyes but does as I command, just as my mom opens the door. "Hey. Hi. Sorry, dropped my phone."

She crosses her arms. "It sounded like your window slammed open."

"Uh. Well, I wanted fresh air. So I opened it. Enthusiastically." She pouts her lips and raises an eyebrow, arms still crossed. I sigh. "Fine, you caught me. I smoke."

Out of nowhere she doubles over, laughing hysterically. She straightens and wipes away her tears. "Oh my God. You. Smoking?"

"What? Why is that so unbelievable?"

"Pumpkin, you yelled at a complete stranger in New York for smoking near the twins, then proceeded to lecture the man."

"He shouldn't be smoking next to children! Ruin your own life, not the lives of others, especially not kids!" I yell in response, remembering the man.

"Exactly. Oh, you are so my daughter. Which means, I know when you're lying. You have a tell. It's the same as mine. You blink twice while looking in the other person's eyes."

I scoff. "I could just have dry eyes!"

"Mhmm. Well, I'm going to get started on dinner." She walks away, but stops at the door. "Derek, why don't you join us. I'm making my famous sausage lasagna."

Derek crawls out from under my bed, face in a scowl but a blush on his cheeks. "Sure, Mrs. Abernathy."

"Marissa, dear." Mom looks at me, and points her finger. "I'm closing the door, because I trust you. Capiche?"

"Capiche." I nod, and she smiles at us, doing as she said. I turn back to Derek. "Hey, you don't have to stay."

"Is that your way of kicking me out?"

"No, I just didn't know if you wanted to have dinner with us."

"Well, I haven't had a home cooked meal since I got to Beacon Hills."

"It's been nearly a month!"

"Exactly."

I sigh. "Well then fine, you're staying. But first, you need to tell me why you're here. What happened that you risked Stiles seeing you?"

He sighs and sits on my bed, but I remain standing. "The woman who shot me. Kate Argent. She and a couple of hunters came to my house this afternoon."

"Oh my God." I cover my mouth. "Did she shoot you again?"

He shakes his head. "No. She just shocked me with her 900,000 volt stun baton."

"Is that worse?" I ask, before I can help myself.

"Well, it didn't feel much better." He sasses back, and I move closer to him, pulling at his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Checking you for burn marks!"

"I heal, remember?"

"So? You heal quickly from 900,000 volts of electricity?"

"Yes."

I glare at him, one that makes the older guy turn slightly submissive and pull up his shirt. All I see is his smooth chest and toned abs, and I carefully touch my fingers to his ribs, noticing some red marks. "Well, they're still healing, so I'm not buying any of your crap." I lower his shirt and readjust his leather jacket, smiling softly. "You can't hide from me, Derek Hale."

"I'm starting to get that." I pull my hands away from him and sit next to him, staring down at my blue bedspread. "What else happened? When Kate Argent paid you a visit?"

"She confirmed that it wasn't hunters who killed Laura. She was going to offer me some deal, but deemed me useless because I don't know who the alpha is, either. So she started shooting at me. And I ran." He growls deeply, clenching his hands into fists. Acting on instinct I grab them, and stare into his now vibrant blue eyes.

"She sounds like a total bitch. How is she related to Allison?"

"She's her aunt."

I nod. "Wow. Tough family."

"You know Allison is going to become just like them, right?"

I shake my head, removing my hands from his when his eyes flicker to a confused green. "No. Her heart is too kind."

"For now. But sooner or later, she's going to be a hunter. And she'll kill Scott as soon as she gets the chance."

"She won't. She's good."

"Yeah, well, give it time. Maybe learn to trust a little less easily. Especially when it comes to the Argents."

I stand up and storm away from him, opening the window. "Get out."

"Pat-"

"No." I scowl at him. "Why can't you ever see the good in people? Why can't you find a way to see the light in the dark?"

"There is no light!" He yells, storming over to me, glaring. "Don't you get it? The world is cold, and dark, and awful, with monsters everywhere. And if you can't see that, then you will die. Because you're too trusting in your belief that the worst kinds of people can be good!"

"I know Allison! She's kind, and funny, and her last name doesn't make her what you think she is!" My eyes start to well up. "Don't give up on the world. Don't give up on humans."  
He clenches his teeth. "All the world has ever done is screw me over. Again, and again, until it's just me left standing. So forgive me if I don't have the same wide-eyed approach to life that you do. You've never been through tragedy. You've never experienced real pain. And if you had, maybe you'd have a better understanding of how the world really works!"

The tears start to slide down my face, because he's not wrong. I am naive. I do try to see the best in people. Because if I don't, then maybe I'll only start seeing the worst in me.

"Fine. Then go. Clearly this whole 'friend' thing isn't working. I'll see you around." I close my eyes, and when I open them a moment later Derek's long gone.

So I fall to my knees, and I release my sobs. The world closes in on me, and I start to see the darkness Derek was talking about.


	6. Heart Monitor

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way (such as the timeline since that's as messy as the one for the _X-Men_ film franchise), but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all. **

* * *

Ever since my fight with Derek a couple of nights ago, I've been in a funk. I guess I just feel guilty, for pushing him away because I couldn't bother trying to understand. But instead of confronting him, I've elected to pour all my energy into research. Not just into what the hell a Löwenmensch is, but also into the Hale Fire records. I just know in my gut that something is wrong. And if Stiles is looking into it too, I must be on the right track.

I sit on the hood of my car in the school parking lot, having arrived earlier than most of the other students. A book on mythological creatures rests next to me as I flip through my file on Löwenmensch.

_"The Löwenmensch is named after the prehistoric Lion-Man ivory sculpture found in the German cave Hohlenstein-Stadel. The background and symbolism of this finding remains unknown, with archeologists and anthropologists alike relying on inferences. For example, Dr. Ilse Vickers - and expert of paleolithic cave art - suggests the Löwenmensch sculpture is related to the Hellenistic and later Roman God Aion, a man depicted with a lion's head, coiled by a serpent."_

I huff. "Well, that's all very interesting, but what the hell is a Löwenmensch?" I mutter to myself, shoving the papers and pictures into my bag with the Hale Fire files. Opening the book on mythological creatures. And, nothing. Not even a random little German old wives' tale. Nothing. Which means I either have to confront my parents, or confront Derek. Neither one of those options sounds particularly pleasant. But I think my mom is starting to suspect I know something about my true heritage. The worried look on her face when I told her Derek wouldn't be joining us for dinner was enough to let me know. My father's been so busy with all these attacks, especially since the Sheriff got hurt on parent/teacher conference night. Evidently, it was a wild time. A mountain lion was walking around the parking lot as parents and students alike were leaving the school. Allison had called to tell me her father shot it down, her voice shaking.

I look up as the rest of the students come walking and driving in, but turn back to my book. All these entries, and not one about a famous man or woman who could turn into a lion? Nothing? What the actual hell?

Someone coughs, and I look up to see Stiles standing in front of me, one hand holding the strap of his backpack and the other in his back pocket. "Hey, how's your dad?" I ask, closing my book.

"Still fine. Busy grumbling about his sprained ankle. What are you reading?" I hold up the book. "Ah, research. Did you look at the records?"

I nod and hop down from my hood, putting my book in my shoulder bag. "Yeah. The report said it was electrical failure."

"Yeah, but the fact that everyone died without getting out is suspicious. Right? I mean, there should have been more survivors than just Peter Hale."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, have you heard from Scott?" I ask, walking with him towards the school.

"No."

"Come on, are you still not talking to him?"

"My dad was hurt, Ricky."

I sigh. "It wasn't Scott's fault, and you know that deep down. Come on, he's your best friend. 20 bucks says you break before first period is even over."

He scoffs and shakes my hand. "You are so on. Hope you have some money ready."

"Same, Watson."

Just as I'm dropping Stiles off at his classroom, he takes my elbow. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ricky, I know you. Probably better than you know yourself." I cross my arms and look down. "What happened?"

"Nothing." He snorts. "Fine. It's just, I feel like there's something my parents haven't been telling me. About… about my family."

"What do you mean?" I wait for a couple for students to pass, then look up at his concerned face. "Patricia?"

"I mean that…" The bell rings, and I shake my head. "I'll tell you later. I'll meet you and Scott before lunch. Without even a wave I dash off to AP Bio, hoping Mrs. Finch's lesson would be interesting enough to distract me from my thoughts.

* * *

Standing outside Stiles and Scott's last classroom, I smile at the A I received on my latest AP Physics test. At least I can depend on my grades to make me happy. The smile gets bigger when I see Scott and Stiles exiting together, talking animatedly. "You owe me $20." I sneak behind Stiles, who shrieks and jumps. Scott and I laugh as our best friend frowns at us, practically through the bill in my face.

"You suck."

"Yeah, yeah. So, what's going on?" I ask Scott.

"I went to Derek for help, and Stiles thinks I'm an idiot for trusting him."

I nod, frowning at the mention of his name. "I see. And?"

Scott sighs. "He said that anger is what helps me shift."

"So he wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?" Stiles asks, and we start to walk to the cafeteria.

"Yeah."

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone, and that someone is usually me. And never Ricky." Stiles glares at me, but I only poke my tongue out at him.

"I know! That's what he means when he says he doesn't know if he can teach me." Scott explains. "I have to be able to control it."

"Well, how's he gonna teach you to do that?"

"I don't know?" Scott shrugs. "I don't think he does either."

"Okay. When are you seeing him again?" Stiles asks, irritated.

"Just told me not to talk about it."

"Sounds like Derek." I mutter quietly.

"Just act normal and get through the day."

"When?" Stiles stops him.

"He's picking me up at the Animal Clinic after work." Scott finally tells us.

Stiles nods. "After work. All right, well, that give Ricky and I till the end of the school day."

"To do what?" I ask. "How do you know I'm not going home after lunch?"

"Because you help your best friends." I roll my eyes, and Stiles turns to Scott. "To teach you ourselves."

We walk into the cafeteria and find a table in the back, unoccupied. While the boys get their lunch I unpack my nutella sandwich and apple, opening up my ice tea. They rejoin me, talking in hushed voices, and give me confused looks.

"What?" I ask, chewing and swallowing my sandwich.

"Stiles said you've been looking into your family's 'true nature'?" Scott brings up, and I groan.

"It's nothing."

"What, were they like, bad or something? Mafia members? Spies?" Scott asks, becoming more hushed and anxious. I roll my eyes.

"No. No, none of that." I sigh. "Okay, before I explain, please know that I'm fully aware of what I'm doing. Okay, more like 99% aware."

"Okay?" Stiles asks, leaning forward. "What's going on?"

I sigh. "Well, you know how I became friends with Derek, sort of? We got into a fight after my mom said he could stay for dinner since she knew he had come into my bedroom through the window, after he had visited me the night before -"

"You did what?" Stiles asks, loud enough for half the tables closest to us to turn in interest. I smile and wave, and they return to their conversations, then focus on Stiles and Scott.

"I know what I'm doing. Stop freaking out."

"What does Derek have to do with your family?" Scott asks.

I run a hand through my hair. "My parents were close friends with his family. They were in the Hale pack. They're human, but my dad's side of the family carries some werelion gene. Or Löwenmensch. The last known one was my great-grandmother, who was best friends with Derek's great-grandmother." The boys nod, intrigued. "According to Derek, the Abernathy Löwenmensch pack has lived in America since leaving Germany in 1670. But recently, it's numbers... well, they're not around anymore. We aren't around anymore." I correct myself.

"But you're human, so what does all this have to do with Scott or werewolves?" Stiles asks.

I look around, then lean forward. "I asked Derek if I was human. He says he doesn't know. What if I end up becoming a Löwenmensch? So I've been doing research, but nothing's come up. Only history about the sculpture found. No myths, no legends, no mention of a lion-man in German folktales."

"Did you consider the fact Derek could be lying?" Stiles asks again, looking concerned. I shake my head.

"Maybe. But still, something feels wrong."

The rest of the meal passes in silence, the boys watching as I play with my meal rather than actually eat it. In the end I just pack it up, and stand as the cafeteria empties of all but the students who have a free period.

"Where are you going?" Scott asks.

"I'm going to sit with Lydia and Allison for some girl time. Just text me the plan when you and Stiles figure it out." They nod and I walk away, joining the two girls at their table.

"Tricia!" Lydia greets, dimples showing and green eyes calculating. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well, I need girl time, which means you two will be keeping me company."

Allison smiles, then looks over at Scott, frowning. "Is he okay?" I watch unimpressed as said boy awkwardly hides behind his textbook.

"Um, I don't know." I turn, then look at the book she's holding. "What are you reading, Alli?

"Oh!" She perks up in excitement. "For history class, we have to do this project on a point in time relevant to our own family history."

"Oh yeah, I remember that. I did mine on my maternal great-grandmother, who was a part of the WASPS."

"Oh, cool!"

"So, what's yours?" I ask Alli, Lydia still eating.

"Oh, my report is on La Bête du Gévaudan."

Lydia finally looks up from her plate. "The what of who?"

"The Beast of Gevaudan." Allison translates for us, shifting to a more comfortable position in her seat. "Listen. 'A quadruped wolf-like monster, prowling the Auvergne and South Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bête killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that King Louis XV sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it.'"

"Boring." Lydia comments, and I snort.

Allison makes a face. "'Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan.'"

"Mmm. Still boring." I nudge her, amused.

"Go on. _I'm_ listening and interested." I tell Allison, who just rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Thank you, Trish." She clears her throat. "'Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a Mesonychid.'"

"'Slipping into a coma' boring." Lydia declares, playing with her fork.

Allison pays her no mind. "'While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster." I freeze, looking at her in shock. Of course. I'm so stupid. Of course she's doing a report on something similar to werewolves. But who put her up to this? Not her parents. At least, not her dad. He doesn't seem to want her to know anything. Maybe her aunt Kate?

"Any of this have anything to do with your family?" Lydia asks, still uninterested.

"This. 'It is believed that La Bête was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature.'" She looks up with us, grinning. "His name was Argent."

Lydia makes a face. "Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?"

"Not just a big wolf." Allison flips a page. "Take a look at this picture. What does it look like to you?" She shows us the image, and I stare at it in shock. Lydia no longer has the video on her phone, but I do. And I can say, without reasonable doubt, that I'm looking at an alpha werewolf.

Lydia covers her own trauma, staring up at Allison. "It looks… like a big… wolf." She grabs her bag and stands, tray in her hands. "See you in history. Bye Trish." She kisses my cheek and walks away, and I look at Allison.

"What's wrong with Lyd?" She asks me, going back to her book.

"Not sure. Maybe she saw something, that night the video manager was killed? Could be PTSD?" I offer. "Hey, can I take a picture of what you just showed me?"

"Sure, why?" Allison asks.

I smile. "Oh, I just, I've been looking for some inspiration for a painting."

"I didn't know you paint."

"Recreational." I nod, trying to look believable. I mean, I can paint, I just don't anymore.

"Here!" She smiles, and I grin back, snapping a picture of La Bête. Handing the book back to her, I take a sip of iced tea.

"So, are you too grounded to meet me for coffee on Saturday?"

She tucks her chocolate curls behind her ear. "Oh, no, I don't think so. I'll have to ask my dad, though."

"Of course." _Your dad probably hates me__._ I think to myself. _Considering I caught him bothering Derek and blackmailed him._

Suddenly Allison stands, and I turn to see Stiles and Scott rushing out of the cafeteria. "I'll text you later. Scott!" She calls, taking her belongings and following after him. I stare down at my phone, and see the text from Stiles.

_Lacrosse field in five._

I stand and make my way to the field, passing by a few struggling students. I'm the only one outside, so I sit on the bleachers and pull out my Physics textbook.

"Okay." I close my head and see the two boys approaching me, Stiles carrying a Lacrosse stick and a gym bag. He sits next to me while Scott stands in front of him. "Now, put this on." Stiles riffles through the bag before handing a heart monitor strap to Scott, who takes confused.

"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" He asks, just as lost as I am considering the fact I have no idea what Stiles has planned.

"Yeah, I borrowed it."

I snort. "No. You stole it."

"Fine._ Temporarily misappropriated_." He makes a face at me before looking back up at Scott. "Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and your gonna wear it for the rest of the day." Stiles pulls something out of his pocket.

"Isn't that coach's phone?" Scott asks.

"That, I stole." Stiles comments, looking incredibly proud of himself. I roll my eyes.

"Why?" Scott asks.

I give him a blank stare. "Have you not met him?"

"Haha." Stiles looks at Scott. "All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you're playing Lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate?"

"Damn, you are so smart." I remark, getting a pleased smile from Stiles.

"Like the Incredible Hulk." Scott says, staring off into space happily.

"Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah."

"No, I'm like the Incredible Hulk."

"Wow, Scott, do you think your ego will grow too?" I ask, getting a laugh from Stiles and a pout from the puppy. "I'm kidding, hon. It was a joke. Kinda. Alright Hulk, Peter Parker, do your thing." I shoo them off.

"Just put the strap on." Stiles order Scott as they walk towards the middle of the field. I watch in interest as the former duct tapes the latter's hands behind him, effectively cuffing the werewolf.

"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period." Scott tells us, and I just give him a sarcastic thumbs up. He tries to flip me off, but is stopped by the duct tape and pouts as I laugh harder.

"All right, you ready?" Stiles asks, picking up the bag and stick and walking away from Scott, who turns.

"No."

"Remember, don't get angry."

I can't hear whatever Scott mumbles, but my hands cover my mouth to hide my shock and amusement when Stiles uses his stick to throw a ball at the werewolf. He groans and bends over. Stiles starts to laugh, and throws another. It hits Scott in the chest and he curls over in pain again. This time I actually laugh, clutching my sides.

"Shut up!" He calls, but I just wave him off. "Okay, that one kind of hurt." He tells Stiles, who ignores him in favor of picking up another ball.

"Quiet, remember, you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate. All right? About staying calm."

Scott mutters to himself, getting louder and bouncing as he goes. "Staying calm. Staying calm, there's no balls flying at my face -" He groans when he's pelted in the chin, Stiles laughing once more. More balls get thrown. "Ahh, son of a bitch!" Scott yells.

"You know what, I think my aim is actually improving."

"You look good Stilinski!" I give him a thumbs up, which he returns.

More balls fly and hit Scott, until he kneels onto the ground, groaning. By the look on Stiles face I can tell something is going wrong, so I run up to them and fall in front of Scott. He rips the duct tape apart and throws his hands forwards onto the ground. Steeling my nerves I touch his back.

"Scott. Come back to us." He starts to breathe slower, nodding as he does. He sits up and my hand falls off of him.

"You started to change." Stiles tells the confused boy as he rolls over, panting.

"From anger. But it was more than that. It was like, the angrier I got, the stronger I felt."

"So it is anger, then. Derek's right." And if he's right about Scott… what if he's right about me?

"I can't be around Allison."

"Just because she makes you happy?" Stiles asks.

"No, because she makes me weak."

I scoff and stand up, getting a look from the boys. "That's bullshit, Scotty. Love makes you strong."

"Well, obviously it doesn't."

"I wouldn't be too sure. Look, I'm gonna do more research in the library. Text me when you're out of class." I tell the boys, and Stiles nods.

"You got it!" I wave and walk back over to my belongings, grabbing my bag as I walk past the bleachers to the school

"Oh, sorry!" I gasp out when I bump into a chest.

"No, my fault." I look up and see Jackson, dark circles under his eyes. We may not be friends, but I try to set that aside most days as he's Lydia's boyfriend.

"Jackson, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine. See you around, Patricia." He bites out, walking around me. I stare after him, noticing a piece of gauze attached to the back of his neck. Weird. Beacon Hills has definitely changed for the stranger.

* * *

I'm in the library when I get the text _You were right._ I smile down at Stiles's message.

**Obviously. How'd you figure it out?**

_Coach started to yell at Scott. He got angry, then his heart rate went down._

**Again, how?**

_Allison held his hand._

**Awwww.**

_No. Gross._

**So she's his anchor?**

_Anchor?_

**Something to hold him in place. Keep him from losing control.**

_I guess so._

I turn back to my book, researching La Bête du Gévaudan. The name Marie Jeanne Valet pops up, going against what Allison said about her family. "The Maid of Gévaudan." I say out loud, then text Alli.

**Girl, I got interested in what you were telling me so I started researching. I think I have something for you.**

_Wow, that's awesome! What is it?_

**Does your book mention "The Maid of Gévaudan?" The one I'm reading does. It says she married a man named Argent. And I think the story you're reading may have been written by a man, because this one credits her with the victory. **

_Thank you. Oh my God, you are amazing._

**Anything for you, Alli.**

_Seriously, you're such a good friend._

**Stop it, I'm blushing.**

_LOL._

I smile and go back to the book. Seconds later I get a message from Stiles.

_Hey, Scott and I are about to do something stupid. Don't go outside._

Of-freaking-course. I roll my eyes and close the book, laying my forehead on the cover. Can nothing be easy with those two?

Evidently not, because they ended up getting detention.

"Look, it was a good idea!" Stiles argues, having come straight to my house after detention got out. I left the school an hour before them, tired of waiting around for the two idiots.

"Really? You keyed a car, blamed Scott, and watched him get beat up?" I whisper, glancing over to the living room to make sure the twins aren't listening in.

"Okay, so I was still mad at him. How was I to know Harris was gonna show up?"

"The dude's a bloodhound." I remind him. "Literally, he can smell when you're doing something irresponsible."

"Yeah, whatever." He tosses his dirty napkin at me, having ordered a pizza for us. I'm still munching on my slice of pepperoni when Stiles gets a call.

"Scott! What's up?" His face immediately pales. "Of course. You're already there?" Stiles looks at me, panicked. "We have to go! Scott's waiting for us!" He hangs up.

"The twins!" I mutter, looking at them. "I can't just leave them!"

Before Stiles can say anything my dad comes through the door. "Oooh, pizza. Thank you, Holmes and Watson!"

"Have at it, William, we gotta go!" Stiles rushes off, and my dad sighs, used to his behavior.

My dad looks at me. "And where do you have to be?"

I shrug, then grab my purse. "No idea. Something with Scott. Love you!" I kiss his cheek and run into the living room. "Bye, my precious little troublemakers." They barely look up from the show they're watching, and I affectionately kiss the top of their heads. With that I'm out the door, running across the street, wondering what the hell is going on.

* * *

I leap out of the passenger seat of Stiles Jeep, for once beating Scott at claiming shotgun. I know now isn't the time to brag about it, considering the fact Derek came to the conclusion that Dr. Deaton is the alpha and has kidnapped him, but I can't keep the smug grin off my face at the sight of the werewolf trying to get out of the back. "You suck." He tells me, but I only smile angelically.

"This is a terrible idea." Stiles points out, opening his trunk.

"Yeah, I know." Scott admits. He looks down at me. "You with us?"

"Obviously." I tell him.

"So, we're still gonna do it?" Stiles asks.

"Can you think of something better? Either of you?"

Stiles makes a face. "Well, personally I'm a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just _goes away_."

I roll my eyes. "And when has that ever worked out for you?" Silence. "That's what I thought."

"Just make sure we can get inside." Scott interrupts any argument about to unfold, and Stiles nods. He opens his trunk to rummage for something as a familiar Camaro drives into the lot, parking right behind us.

"He's here." Scott announces, and Stiles hands me the bolt cutters.

"We don't need those." I point to my hair and he nods in understanding, putting the bolt cutters back in the car.

We walk over to the Camaro, and I do my best not to look directly at Derek while sliding on a pair of gloves. "Where's my boss?" Scott asks.

"He's in the back."

Stiles walks behind Scott to look through the back window, and from my spot next to him I can see Dr. Deaton awkwardly bound and propped up, mouth covered in duct tape. "Well, he looks comfortable." Scott taps us on the back, and we start to walk away.

"Wait. Hey. What are you doing?" Derek asks, confused.

"You said I was linked with the alpha. I'm gonna see if you're right." We keep walking, but I stop when Derek calls out my name.

"Patricia." I barely glance over my shoulder at him. "Be careful."

"Whatever." I mutter, angry that he didn't apologize and angrier that I didn't, either.

I catch up with the boys and pull out my bobby pin, quickly picking the large lock and pulling the chain from the door handles. YouTube, man. So many useful tutorials.

I follow after them as we walk into the dark school. Stiles turns on the flashlight, and we walk towards the main office, where I pick the lock once more.

"Okay, one question. What are you gonna do if the alpha doesn't show up?" Stiles asks as we enter the room, Scott closing the door behind us.

"I don't know." Scott admits.

I raise an eyebrow. "And what are you gonna do if he does show up?" I ask as Stiles turns on the PDA system.

"I don't know."

"Good plan." Stiles sasses, looking up at him. I snort.

Scott nods. "All right. You said that a wolf howls to signal his position to the rest of the pack, right?"

"Right. But if you bring him here, does that make you part of his pack?"

"Not necessarily." The boys look at me. "Remember, the alpha needs something from him. Contact probably isn't enough. There has to be some action. Besides, Scott's connection to the alpha is through the bite, not choice or loyalty."

The boys nod, both looking more at ease. Stiles puts the mic in front of Scott. "All right. All you."

Scott nods, takes in a breath, and releases a loud, bizarre sound. It's less of a howl, and more of a scream from a slasher film remixed with horrible techno music. Stiles and I both look down in secondhand embarrassment, and I start to laugh.

"Shut up." Scott blushes.

I shrug, wiping away some joyful tears. "Performance anxiety. It happens." Stiles starts to laugh too, and we calm down after a couple of minutes.

"I mean, it was a howl, right?" Scott asks.

Stiles shakes his head. "I-yeah, technically."

"What did it sound like to you?"

"Like a cat being choked to death, Scott." Scott looks at me for confirmation, and I nod with a grin.

"What do I do? How am I supposed to do this?" Scott asks us, panicking a bit.

"First of all, breathe." I order. He does.

Stiles walks around the desk to grab our best friend's shoulders. "Hey, hey. Listen to me. You're calling the alpha. All right? Be a man." He starts rubbing his shoulders. "Be a werewolf, not a _teen wolf_. Be a werewolf." He shakes him one last time then steps back.

"Werewolf." Scott mutters.

"Do it."

Scott nods and inhales, and I watch as his eyes turn gold. He lets out a primal roar that shakes the walls and floors around us. I hear lockers moving like it's a small earthquake, and smile at Scott proudly.

When he finishes he smiles back at me. "I did it."

"Hell yeah."

We leave the office in silent awe, and I make sure to lock the door from the inside. Once we reach the exit of the school I reattach the lock, joining the boys as they approach a still-irritated Derek. "I'm gonna kill both of you." He threatens the boys, then looks up at me. "Not you."

"Is that an apology, Hale?" I ask, crossing my arms.

He lets out a sigh and looks away. "Sure."

"I'm sorry, too." He looks at me, and I bypass Scott and Stiles to grab his hand. "I should've been more understanding. I get it, though, I understand now."

He nods, and squeezes back. "I'm sorry." He finally mutters, and I smile, at peace.

"Aww, that's sweet. But, uh, can we get back to the part where you want to kill us?!" Stiles asks, and I release Derek's hand to look at my friends, trying not to laugh.

"What the hell was that?" Derek asks in return, referring to our plan. "What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?" He looks at me. "You okayed this?"

I shrug, and Scott starts to apologize. "Sorry. I didn't know it would be that loud."

"Yeah, it was loud." We look at a happy Stiles. "And it was _awesome_." He sings the last word.

"Shut up." Derek orders, looking more serious than usual.

"Don't be such a Sourwolf!" Stiles comments, but Scott stops him.

"What'd you do with him?" He asks, looking into the back of Derek's car.

"What?" Derek looks too, then pushes me away when he sees Dr. Deaton is missing. "I didn't do anything." Suddenly blood comes out of his mouth and I scream, Stiles grabbing me as we see the giant alpha standing behind Derek, lifting him up by the claws in his back. "_Pa-patricia__?_" He gurgles out, and my eyes well with tears as the boys drag me to the school. I hear a thump against the brick wall, turning just in time to see Derek fall down onto a pile of leaves, lifeless.

Stiles tugs the bobby pin out of my head and hands it to me. I shakily pick the lock and we run in and slam the doors shut, pushing against them as the alpha roars outside.

"_Derek_." I breath out, then hide my head in Stiles's shoulder, breaking down.


	7. Night School

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way (such as the timeline since that's as messy as the one for the _X-Men_ film franchise), but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all. **

* * *

"Lock it, lock it!" Scott cries out.

"Does it look like I have a key?" Stiles snarks back, one arm around my shoulder as my sobs quiet, becoming soft whimpers.

"Grab something!"

"Like what?" I break apart from them and realize I'm still holding the chain. I quickly wrap it around, locking it tight.

"Nice work." Stiles kisses my forehead, and Scott takes my arm. Just then something rams into the door, and I look up to see the alpha banging against it, blood red eyes staring into me. I yelp and it disappears.

"Where'd it go?" Scott asks, and Stiles pulls out his flashlight. Seeing nothing we back up, and Scott looks over at us. "That won't hold, will it?" I shake my head.

"Probably not." Stiles verbally answer. We exhale, but run to the nearest classroom when hear a howling coming from inside the dark school.

"Desk, the desk!" Scott offers, and the boys start to move it into the doorway.

"Shh, shh, stop it!" Stiles whispers, holding out his hand. "The door's not gonna keep it out." He whispers.

"I know."

"I hate your boss." I nod in agreement with Stiles, closing my eyes as I watch Derek bleeding out playing out over and over in my head.

"What?" Scott asks.

"Deaton, the alpha? Your boss."

"Yes, murdering psycho werewolf."

"That can't be." Scott argues.

"Oh, come on, Scott." I growl out, getting a look from him. "He disappears, and then seconds later that _thing_ shows up and _kills_ Derek?"

"That's not convenient timing?" Stiles adds.

Scott just shakes his head. "It's not him."

"He killed Derek." Stiles reminds him, looking at me apologetically. "We may not have liked him, but he was important to Ricky."

"No, Derek's not dead." I look up at Scott in shock. "He can't be dead."

"Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury!" Stiles argues, and I look down at my hands. My left had just held Derek's five minutes ago. And now he's gone. He was… he meant something to me. Even though I hardly knew him he meant _something_. "He's dead, and we're next." Stiles finishes.

"Okay, just… what do we do?" Scott asks, just as panicked. I sigh and open my eyes, standing straight and strong, though my voice shakes.

"We survive. We work together. We live. And we beat this son of a bitch." I state, and they look at me.

"No, we have to get to my Jeep, we have to get out of here!" Stiles argues, turning back to Scott. "And you seriously think about quitting your job."

Scott runs over to the windows and tries to open it, but Stiles and I stop him. "No, they don't open, the school's climate-controlled." Stiles tells him."

"Then we break it."

"Which will make a ton of noise. But I like your enthusiasm." I sass, though there's none of my usual heart in it.

"Then we run. We run really fast." We all look out the window. "Really fast." A moment passes, and Scott and I both tilt our heads, but the former speaks. "Stiles, what happened to the hood of your Jeep?"

"What do you mean, nothing's wrong."

"It's _bent_, Stiles." I tell him.

That gets a reaction. "What, dented?" He moves closer to the window.

"No, she means bent!" Scott corrects.

"Wh-what the hell happened?" Stiles asks. Just as he's about to ask more, something crashes through the window, shattering it. The boys dive over me, crushing us to the wall. We look over in shock.

"That's my battery." Stiles remarks, getting angry. He starts to stand, but we pull him down.

"Don't!"

"We have to move." Stiles tells us, and I nod.

"He could be right outside." Scott whispers.

"He is right outside." Stiles argues back. We breathe heavily, and Stiles pulls me into him.

"Just let me take a look." Scott tells him, creeping up slowly to stare out the window. He looks around for a few seconds.

"Anything?" I ask.

"No." He looks down and takes my hand.

"Move now?" Stiles asks.

"Move now." Scott agrees, and we carefully walk out the room. Stiles flashes his light around. Scott tries to lead us one way, but Stiles stops him.

"No, no, no. Somewhere without windows."

"Every single room in this building has windows!" Scott argues.

Stiles looks at him. "Or somewhere with less windows."

I get an idea. "Guys, the locker room!"

"Yeah." Stiles nods and the boys take my hands, pulling me with them.

"I meant the girls." I whisper harshly when I realize we're going to the boys instead.

"Now isn't the time for your womanly sensibilities, Patricia." Stiles admonishes. We open the door and sneak in, gently shutting it.

"Call your dads." Scott tells us.

"And say what?" I ask. "'_Hey, dad, we're trapped in the school because a freaking alpha is trying to kill us._'?" I snark.

"Then tell them it's a gas leak, a fire, whatever. If that thing sees the parking lot with cop cars, it'll take off."

"What if it doesn't?" Stiles asks him. "What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight, including our dads?"

"They have guns." Scott reminds us.

"Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane-laced bullet to even slow him down. You remember that?" Stiles tells him, and I feel another pang in my heart at the mention of his name.

"Then we… we have to… we have to find a way out and just run for it." Scott offers.

"There's nothing near the school for at least a mile."

I look at him. "Derek's car." I mutter.

"That could work." Stiles agrees. "We go outside, we get the keys off his body, ugh, and then we take his car."

"No." I argue firmly. "We take his body with us. I am not leaving him outside to be found by a complete stranger."

"Fine. Okay." Stiles nods. We start walking to the door, but just as Stiles is about to open it Scott stops him.

"Wait."

"What?"

"I think I heard something."

"Like what?"

"Shh, quiet." Footsteps approach and we step back, holding onto each other. Scott reaches over me to lower Stiles flashlight. "Hide." We nod, and Stiles jumps towards the nearest locker, making a lot of noise as he gets in.

"Dammit Stiles!" I whisper-yell, but Scott tugs me and I roll my eyes, thankful that my small frame can easily fit in. It smells though, and I cover my nose. God, what is wrong with guys? Have they never heard of Febreze?

I stare out the small slots on my tiptoes, watching as the door handle turns, opening. Something comes in and I move back, covering my mouth more, my other hand pressed against my chest.

Suddenly Scott screams, and so does another man. I peak out and see the night janitor, who appears unimpressed by us. "Son of a bitch!" He yells. We try to calm him.

"Quiet." Scott says.

"Quiet my ass, what the hell are you trying to do, kill me? The three of you, get out."

"Just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles tries to reason.

"Not okay. Get the hell out of here right now." He shoves us out of the locker room, Stiles still arguing with him.

"God, just one second to explain."

"Just shut up and go." There's a roar and then the man is tugged back, the door closing with him. We watch in horror as blood sprays onto the glass, the man's face pressed against it. He screams for help and Stiles moves Scott away from the door, leading us far from the man's yells.

* * *

We run all the way to the back entrance, shoving as hard as we can. "What the hell?" Stiles asks. We push the door harder, and groan when we manage to see what's blocking us.

"It's a dumpster." Scott announces. A bit incredulous.

"He pushed it in front of the door."

"To block us in." Scott agrees with Stiles, then looks at me. "Can you get through that?"

I make an offended noise. "I'm not that small, man." He makes a face.

"Sorry. But in case you hadn't noticed, the alpha just killed a man!"

While we argue, Stiles rams his body against the door, trying to make it budge. Scott grabs him and we run from the door, turning down another hall. "I'm not dying here. I'm not dying at school!" Stiles panics.

"We're not going to die."

Stiles lets out a breath and throws up his arms in frustration. "God, what is he doing? What does he want?"

"Me!" We look at Scott. "Derek says it's stronger with a pack."

"Yeah, great. A psychotic werewolf who's into 'teen wolf'. That's-that's beautiful." Stiles gripes.

Scott stops us in our tracks, looking out the hallway windows. We watch the alpha stare at us with it's red eyes before it runs along the roof, coming towards us. We run in the direction we came from, just as it crashes through the windows and bounds after us. Scott opens the nearby staircase door and we run down, exiting at the ground level of the school. We dash through some more doors and travel down one more flight before we end up in the basement, near the boiler room. We hide behind a set of janitorial lockers, Scott peeking over as growls are heard nearby. The roars get louder and closer.

"What?" Stiles mouths to Scott.

"Go." Scott mouths back to us. We run, but more growls are heard.

"Alright, we have to do something." Stiles says.

"Like what?" Scott asks him.

"I don't know. Kill it, hurt it, inflict mental anguish on it - something." Glass shatters in the distance. Stiles reaches into his pockets, his keys making a noise.

"Shh, stop it!" Scott pleads.

Stiles just ignores him. He pulls out his keys and tosses them by another room. As soon as the alpha runs in, we come forwards and lock him in, fighting against he shoves on the door. "The desk, come on, the desk!" Stiles calls to Scott, who does as he asks. We smile, but then the alpha roars.

"He can't…" Scott trails off, the three of us relieved we've temporarily trapped him.

"Alright." Stiles says. The alpha bangs on the door and we all jump. "Come on, get across. Come on!" He yells at Scott.

"What?" Scott waits a moment, then quickly joins us on the other side, trapping me between the two boys.

"This is starting to feel a little too much like _Harry Potter_." I nervously ramble. "I'm obviously Hermione. Scott's Harry, and Stiles is Ron." The two of them look at me like I've lost my mind. "What?"

"Really? A _Harry Potter_ reference at a time like this?"

"Well, no one else was gonna say it!" I argue back at Stiles. He shakes his head but goes closer to the door.

"What are you doing?" Scott asks.

"I just wanna get a look at it." He explains.

"Are you crazy?" I ask, probably looking like a maniac myself.

"Look, it's trapped, okay? It's not gonna get out." Despite our protests Stiles climbs onto the table, shining his light through the grated window. "That's right, we got you -"

"Will you shut up?"

"I'm not scared of this thing." He tells Scott, just as the alpha slams it's paw against the door. Stiles scatters off the desk and we back away. "Not scared of you!" Stiles calls out. "Right, 'cause you're in there, and we're out here." He tries to tell himself. "You're not going any-" There's a crashing sound in the room, and the ceiling above us creeks, pieces of it falling down.

"Oh, we're so gonna die." I say, right as the boys whisk me away.

* * *

We're navigating our way through the boiler room when Scott stiffens, the three of us stopping in our tracks. "Wait. Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I ask, nervously looking around.

"It sounds like a phone ringing." Scott answers. His tan face goes pale. "I know that ring tone. It's Allison's phone." He tears off, presumably following either her scent or her heartbeat.

"What is Allison doing here?" I ask, but there's no answer. Scott grabs Stiles's phone and calls his girlfriend.

"No, it's me. Where are you?... Where are you right now?... Where? Where are you exactly?... Get to the lobby. Go now!" He hangs up, and we run to the aforementioned meeting place. Allison is waiting for us, but before she can say anything a panicked Scott asks, "Why did you come? What are you doing here?"

She looks confused. "Because you asked me to."

"I asked you to?" Allison holds up her phone, and over her shoulder I read the text.

_Meet me at the school. URGENT. - Scott._

Scott looks at her in surprise, and she looks back at him with a nervous expression. "Why do I get the feeling you didn't send this message?"

"Because I didn't." She looks back at me, asking the same thing with her eyes.

I shake my head, making a pleading face. "He really didn't. His phone's broken, remember?" She turns back to him, more scared.

"Did you drive here?" Stiles asks.

"Jackson did."

I groan, and Scott says, "Jackson's here too?"

"And Lydia, what's going on? Who sent this text?" Allison freaks out, but her phone rings so she answers it. "Where are you?" The door behind her opens quickly, and in comes Jackson and Lydia, the latter hanging up her phone.

"Finally." She sighs. "Can we go now?" Allison nods.

The alpha thuds above us, still hidden in the vents. The others jump, and I remember something. Reaching into my pocket to pull out my switchblade. "You've had that this whole time?" Stiles asks.

I nod. "Sorry. Panicked."

"Run!" Scott orders, and we do so. I run behind the heeled Lydia, my strawberry blonde friend pulling me with her as Jackson holds her arm. The ceiling breaks and down comes the alpha, chasing after us as we bound up the stairs. I keep gripping my knife as we run into the cafeteria.

Stiles and I stand by the windows, looking at them nervously. The blinds might be down, but the alpha can still find us. We turn as the others start blocking the door, Stiles trying to stop them. I join in, but they ignore us in favor of barricading us in. When they stop and step back, we manage to get their attention.

"Hello! Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job everyone. Now, what should we do about the 20-foot wall of windows." We both gesture to them, and Scott groans.

"Can someone please explain to me what's going on because I am freaking out here." Allison turns to her boyfriend, practically in tears as her voice shakes. "And I would like to know why. Scott?" He groans again and walks away, standing at a table and hunching over it. The others wait for an answer, Scott looking at Stiles and I. Realizing no one is going to talk, I make to step forward, but Stiles's voice stops me.

"Somebody killed the janitor."

"What?" Lydia asks in a small voice.

"Yeah." Stiles reconfirms. "The janitor's dead."

"What's he talking about?" Allison panics. "Is this a joke?"

"Wha-Who killed him?" Jackson asks.

Lydia begins to freak out more. "No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion-"

"Don't you get it? There wasn't a mountain lion." Jackson tells her.

"Who was it?" Allison demands, on the brink of tears. "What does he want? What's happening? Scott!"

"I-I don't know!" He answers. "I just, if-if we go out there, he's gonna kill us."

"Us, he's gonna kill us?" Lydia asks, Jackson holding her closer.

"Who? Who is it?" Allison asks us, and I sigh, about to reveal the big secret. But Scott stops me, and I swear to God I almost stab him.

"It's Derek. It's Derek Hale." I stumble back and walk away, turning to stare out the window.

"Wait, Derek killed the janitor?"

_No, you dumbass__._ I want to say to Jackson. _It's a giant-ass werewolf who wants Scott to join his pack because guess what, Whittemore, werewolves are real!_

But I don't. Instead I stare at my blade, growing angrier and angrier as Scott blames Derek for the deaths of all those slain by the alpha, until I blow up and turn, punching him in the face. Everyone shouts in disbelief, Stiles rushing to grab me as I lean towards my other best friend. Scott looks at me in shock, clutching his cheek. "You goddamn liar." I whisper. "You coward." He starts to get angry, but I don't back down. I punch him again and storm off.

"Where-where are you going?" Lydia calls, worried. I turn to look at the group, glaring deeply at Scott.

"I'm out."

"You-you'll die! Didn't you just hear what Scott said?" Allison asks, worried for me. I glower at her.

"Scott is a goddamn _coward_. He's a liar."

"Is this about Derek? I know he was an ex -" Allison tries, but I stop her.

"I can't- I can't do this right now." I keep walking, but someone takes my arm. I turn to see Jackson.

"Look, I know he isn't your ex." I look at him in shock because he's whispering rather than exposing me. "I know you probably only told Allison that to protect her."

"You don't know me."

"I do." He insists. "God, Lydia doesn't shut up about you. The entire Lacrosse team worships you. The students and teachers love you, even Harris! But all that isn't the point." He veers back on topic, just as freaked out as the rest of us. We both breath heavily. "If Derek's the killer, and you know him, and he knows you're alone, he'll come after you first!"

I shake my head, removing myself from Jackson. "It isn't him."

He sighs, clearly believing me to be delusional. "Fine. Go out on your own. Good luck. But if you die, just know you're going to make a lot of people sad, including my girlfriend. _One of your best friends_." He bites out, reminding me. I just blink then blankly return to my goal, opening the side door.

"Patricia?" Stiles asks, tears in his eyes as he walks past Scott to look at me.

"I'm sorry. If I don't make it… I love you Watson. I'll try to lead him away from you." Before they can stop me I run out, only relying on my anger. "Come on, you big freak." I growl, turning my knife in my hand. "You're about to meet one very pissed off girl."

* * *

It's different, hunting for the monster rather than running from it. If my friends and Scott are going to survive, someone has to lead it away. I hear panicked footsteps running through the hall beside me and groan. "Hey, asshole!" I yell, as soon as a door slams closed. Something growls in the distance. "Yeah, you. C'mon, you freak." I run down the hall, further from whatever classroom the others are hiding in. I feel paws chase after me and run down the hall, leading the alpha in a bizarre pattern. I fall to my knees just outside the AP Bio classroom, when the monster leaps above me, claws nearly at my throat. I suck in my breath and stab up into his side, feeling some blood spill down onto my hand. The alpha roars in pain and seems to scent me. His head falls back, confused red eyes on me before he leaps off the blade, his back claws scratching me in the ribs as he goes. I cry out in pain and struggle to stand, feeling the wet blood that splattered all over my body and hands.

All I can think is how dumb I am. God, what have I done? What did I let myself do? No matter how angry I was at Scott, I shouldn't have left.

I whimper and touch the scratches on my side, and realize they aren't deep. No stitches would be required. I can make it. I can live through this, see my family again. Hold my brothers to me. I limp down the hallway. "He-hello?" I ask. "I-I know I ran off. B-but…" I trail off, faltering in front of the chemistry classroom and falling to the ground with a pained moan.

I hear some arguing and the door opens. I watch as Jackson comes forward, shock written all over his face as he bends down to scoop me up, carrying me over to a nearby table. I moan and feel someone removing the bloody knife from my hand. I turn my head to see Stiles wiping it with paper towels as best he can, shoulders shaking.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, what did Derek do to you?" Allison asks, leaning over me and crying.

"Was-wasn't Derek."

"Patricia?" Jackson asks, and I feel someone fluttering around me, lifting my shirt and gently cleaning my wounds. I arch my back in pain, crying.

"Not… not Derek. Derek isn't the killer. Sc-Scott lied. Stiles. Stiles." He rushes over to me, taking my bloody hand. "I got it… in the side…"

He looks at me in shock, running his hands through my matted hair. "What?"

"Most of the blood… is his. The scratch… the scr-scratch -"

"It's a superficial cut." Lydia tells him, her voice strong but shaky. "She luckily won't require stitches, and since I cleaned it first it won't become infected."

I grin at her, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. "There's my smart girl. Missed you, Lyds. Don't be stupid."

She tears up and covers my hand with her own. "You'll be okay, Tricia." Jackson helps Stiles start to sit me up, careful of my wounds. Allison grabs the first aid kit and hands it to Lydia, who gets to work covering my injuries with gauze and medical tape. When she's done I'm helped off the table, Allison quietly wets some towels and wipes the blood from my body.

"I'm so sorry, I don't have an extra shirt." She tells me, and I wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. D-did you guys c-call anyone?"

"I called my dad, then yours. Both went to voicemail." Stiles tells me. I nod. "Here." He pulls off his sweater and offers it to me. He and Jackson turn as the girls help me cut off the shirt I'm wearing and slide the sweater onto me, zipping it up.

"Thank you." They walk me over to where the others are standing, and Stiles pulls me into him, kissing my forehead.

"I don't get this." I look over at Allison. She sits on the table, legs crossed and fingers over her mouth. "I-I don't get why he's out there."

"Scott went out there?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I can't stop my hands from shaking." Jackson grabs her shaking limbs and holds them tight, drawing a confused look from me.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

She nods and smiles. "Okay."

I step away from Stiles and cross over to Lydia, holding her in my arms despite the pull from my left side. She looks over to Mr. Harris's desk and the chemicals that sit on it.

"Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right? It has to be sulfuric acid, it won't ignite if it's not."

"I gave you exactly what you asked for, didn't I?" He argues harshly, his tone so much different when speaking to his girlfriend than when comforting Allison.

Lydia's voice goes soft, but I hear the hurt under it. "Yeah, yeah I'm sure you did."

"Why did you guys need sulfuric acid?" I ask, confused.

Lydia blinks down at me. "Self-Igniting Molotov Cocktail."

I nod, impressed, before holding her closer.

Suddenly, a loud roar begins to shake the school. Lydia covers her ears and Jackson groans, falling to the floor in pain and grabbing at the back of his neck. He stands when it ends, and Lydia comes up to him.

"Jackson?"

"I'm fine."

"Let me see -"

"I said I'm fine."

She shakes her head, then turns to us. "The scratches have been there for days, he won't tell me what happened."

"As if you actually care." Jackson whispers harshly to her. I frown at him and hold Lydia's hand.

"Where's Scott, he should be back by now?" Allison says. There's a sound of something breaking, and we all rush to the door, banging against it. "Scott!" She calls. "Scott!"

"Where's he going?" Lydia asks.

"Scott." Allison tugs on the door. "Scott, Scott, Scott!"

"Stop!" Lydia calls. "Stop!" Allison turns. "Do you hear that? Listen." In the distance, we can hear sirens approaching. I slouch in relief, holding my side. Lydia holds me up, changing out positions and brushing back my wayward blonde locks. We run to the window and watch the cops pull in, along with an ambulance. Stiles nudges me and points to his Jeep. Only the Camaro isn't behind it. I start to tear up and he pulls me into his chest, making soothing noises as he holds me.

* * *

My dad stares at me in worry as the EMTs dress my wounds, relieved that nothing permanent happened. He had also carefully watched the small forensics team take some samples of the blood on me, but I knew nothing would come up. Nothing human, at least. My dad still looks angry, which is understandable, but kisses my forehead. The other EMTs take care of Dr. Deaton, who remains unhealed which means he isn't the alpha.

I watch the Sheriff lead Scott and Stiles out of the building, asking, "Are you sure it was Derek Hale?"

My dad looks at my glower and holds my hands, helping me down. "Yes." Scott answers, and I feel anger burning in my chest towards my supposed best friend.

"I saw him too." Stiles adds and my heart breaks. I barely glance their way as my dad leads me to the car.

"Hey, Patricia?" The Sheriff walks up to us, face worried. "What did Derek do to you?"

"Nothing. I was running and sliced myself."

He gives me a look like he doesn't believe me, and my dad shakes his head. "Noah, please. She's probably in shock. I'm going to take her home." He nods, then the Sheriff comes over to hug me carefully.

"Feel better. Let your dad know if you remember anything. When you're ready, I need to take a statement."

"Okay." I don't even look at my best friends as I climb into the passenger seat of my dad's car, and he pulls out of the lot, driving towards home.

"When we get back, your mother and I want to talk to you." He finally says.

I stare out the window. "Me, too."

"God, what the hell were you thinking, kid? First you break into the school, then you run off to play hero and get hurt? I thought I taught you better than that!" He yells, but I barely flinch. "What, you've got nothing to say?"

I turn to him, eyes narrowed. "I've got plenty to say, dad."

"Don't you dare use that tone of voice on me. What you did was irresponsible, and you're lucky we aren't grounding you on account of you being injured." I scoff and look back out the window.

"Whatever. At least I'm not a liar."

My dad abruptly stops the car. "What are you talking about?"

"I know, dad." I look up at him, eyes narrowed. "I know about the Hales, and our family. I know great-grandma Diane was special. And I know you've lied to me my whole life."

I look back out the window, and my dad restarts the car. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, until we pull up to the house.

"Your brothers went to bed crying. You should see them before you go to your room." My dad says, staring out the front window.

"Okay." I quietly agree, guilty that I worried Chase and Clark. I open the door and carefully get out, following my dad to the front door. My mother opens it, glare in place, but it fades when she looks at my dad.

"Honey. She knows." Is all he says. She nods and leads us in, locking the door behind her.

We sit at the kitchen table, the two adults facing me.

"I'm sorry I worried you. We weren't supposed to be at the school for long."

"Why were you at the school?" My mom asks, arms crossed.

I sigh. This is it. I'm done hiding things from them. Then maybe they'll stop hiding things from me.

"Do you remember that night, when Stiles, Scott and I went to the woods?"

"I'm sorry, what?" My mom asks, my dad having kept his word about not telling her what happened.

"Hang on, Scott was there, too?" My dad asks, and I nod.

"Yes. Well, we left him there because we didn't want him to get in trouble. Only he was bit."

"'Bit'?" My mom asks, as though she doesn't understand what I'm talking about. I give her a look.

"By the alpha werewolf, the same one that's been running around Beacon Hills killing people, starting with Laura Hale. But you two knew that already, didn't you?"

They exchange a look, and my mom sighs. "Derek told you, didn't he?"

"He wouldn't have had to if you had just told me the truth from the beginning." I shoot back, arms crossed.

"Woah, hang on a second. When did Derek Hale become your friend?" My dad asks.

"I got Chris Argent bothering him one night. One of his friends broke Derek's car window, so I made him pay up for damages."

"Nice, how much?" My mom asks, ignoring the look from my dad. Despite the situation, I grin.

"$1000."

"That's my girl." She smiles proudly, then rolls her eyes at my dad. "What?"

He just laughs and looks at me. "Okay. So you befriended Derek."

"It would've happened sooner if the Hale fire hadn't happened and you'd let me meet the pack. The same one you had been a part of for years." I look up at them.

My dad shifts in his seat. "We would have. When you were ready."

"And what about the fact great-grandma was a Löwenmensch? Would you've told me that, too?" I ask. He runs a hand through his short blonde hair, green eyes staring at me.

"Eventually." I scoff. "Honey, you're human -"

"No, I'm not." I shake my head, and they look at me in surprise, gripping each other's hands.

"What does that mean? Did the alpha bite you?" My mom asks, worried.

"No. But Derek said there's something dormant in my scent. The gene's still there, dad." I look at him. "I think it has been for years. That's why our family's always been a part of the Hale back, even after great-grandma Diane died and her descendants became human. We carry the gene."

My dad clasp his hands together, arms on his knees. He rests his chin on his hands. "So, if we were to be bit -"

"It could come out. Possibly. Maybe." I look at him. "But I'm not sure, because I did my own research and found nothing about Löwenmensch anywhere. Just information about the sculpture." My mom nods and stands, leaving the room. I watch in confusion, worried if I had hurt her. I turn to my dad. "There's more. Chris Argent -"

"Is a hunter. I know." I look at him in shock, and William Abernathy straightens in his chair. "Argent means silver. I've known about them my whole life. See, my mom and I may be human, but there's always a risk when you're in a werewolf pack. Talia Hale was always careful, always following the code so hunters wouldn't target them. The fire happened when your mother and I were on a date. We would've been trapped with the others if Talia hadn't made us go out and have fun instead of joining them for dinner." I cover my mouth in horror as my mom returns, a leather-bound journal in one hand and her other on her husband's shoulder. "We lost our best friends that night. Losing a member of the pack is like losing a limb. Most human members don't understand the feeling, but I had been a part of the pack since before birth because of my grandmother, and your mom was Talia's closest friend."

"We were practically sisters." My mom wipes her wet eyes then sits down, voice shaking a bit. "Your dad and I have always known the fire wasn't an accident. It was hunters. Ones who didn't follow the code."

"What code?" I ask.

"'Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.'" My mother says.

"'We hunt those who hunt us'?" I ask, leaning forward. "So the more violent werewolves."

She nods. "The ones who go after humans, who don't try to live peaceful lives in harmony with humankind."

"So the hunters who killed the Hales… do you know who they are?" I ask.

My dad shakes his head. "I've spent years trying to reach out to different hunting families, all of them having solid alibis, even the Argents." He looks at me. "Hunters… they aren't always so eager to keep to their code. It's why we had you take self-defense classes at such a young age. It's why you took gymnastics, why I taught you how to use a gun. We just want you to be safe, not play hero. They're dangerous, the Argents. Even if you're just a friend to a werewolf, they'll go after you."

"Is that your way of telling me to stay away from Allison, because I won't. I'm not scared of her family, and she isn't like them."

"For now." He says, gently. "But Lord knows your mom and I can't stop you. We can only ask you to be careful. That means no more monster hunting on your own."

"How are you feeling? Your dad told me about the cuts." My mom bites her lip.

I smile. "They're just sore. I'm sorry. I know it was stupid, I just got so angry at Scott."

"What did Scott do?"

"He blamed the deaths of the janitor and everyone else on Derek. Who I thought was killed by the alpha, but his Camaro was gone when we looked out the window." I start to tear up. "God, I know it sounds stupid, but I just -"

"You felt betrayed. Because you care for him." My mom finishes, and my dad blinks.

"Now, hold up a second. What?"

My mom rolls her eyes at him and kisses his cheek. "They were going to cross paths eventually, if Talia and I got our way."

"Mom!" I cry out, embarrassed. She laughs as I blush and hide my face in my hands, my dad doing the same.

"What, it's true?"

"Alright, alright." My dad gripes, his deep voice slightly irritated. "To recap; there is indeed a rogue alpha running around. Scott was bitten and is now a werewolf. You're friends with an Argent, who has yet to be turned into a hunter. Derek, despite what Stiles and Scott told Noah, is not the killer. Which means your mom will be working overtime to put together a case while I try to keep the other officers off Derek's trail without losing my job." I nod, biting my lip, and he turns to my mom. "Well, this should be fun."

"Don't worry. I'll stop by _his_ place in the morning for more wolfsbane."

"We're out?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good." Dad looks at me. "And you… just, be careful honey. We can't lose you." I nod and get up, and they stand to pull me into a hug.

When we break apart my mom hands the journal to me. "This belonged to Diane. It's the entire history of the Abernathy Löwenmensch pack, dating back to the pre-1670 migration to America. I think you'll find your answers in here."

I take the book carefully, holding it to my chest. "Thank you."

"We love you, pumpkin. So very much. Go see your brothers, I'm sure they're still up." I nod and walk up the stairs, stopping for just a moment to watch my mom and dad embrace, holding each other tightly.

As I walk to the second floor, I start to feel lighter. I feel free, like I know I have my parents behind me. Gently opening the door I walk over to the two twin beds, kissing Chase and Clark on the cheek. They wake up and smile, instantly getting out from under their covers to hug me. I groan when Chase grabs onto my left side but hold it together, hugging them back.

"Mommy said you got hurt!" Clark cries. I shush him and kiss his forehead again, Chase rubbing his head into my other arm.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But I'm fine!" I smile despite the pain and they release me, still crying a bit. "Tell you what. Tomorrow, I'll pick you up after school, and we'll go to the cafe. Okay?"

"Okay." Chase mutters, yawning. I help them back into bed, kissing their puffy cheeks and brushing my hand through their short blonde hair.

"Sleep tight, Double Trouble." I smile at them, carefully shutting the door behind them before slowly making my way upstairs, groaning in pain. When I get to my room I throw my door open and shut it behind me.

"_Patricia_." I jump and turn to see Derek awkwardly standing by the closed window, curtain closed as well, shirt covered in blood but otherwise alive.

"Oh my God." I whisper, and before he can stop me I drop the journal on my bed and run to him and wrap my arms around his neck, starting to cry. "I-I thought you were dead."

"For a moment, so did I." He finally says, wrapping his arms around my waist. I groan when he squeezes a little too tight and he instantly releases me. "What happened?"

"... It's possible I went after the alpha..."

"Why the hell would you do that?" He growls.

I sigh. "Because Scott - and now Stiles - pinned the janitor's death and the others' deaths on you. And I thought you were dead, and I was so angry, so I decided to go after the thing myself. I stabbed it in the side when it tackled me down." He looks angrier the more I explain, but reaches out a hand to grab my mine. "He-Derek, I think he knows me. Or at least my scent. Because he just pulled himself off my knife and ran away. The scratches were accidental. At least, I think they were."

"Scratches?" He asks. Ignoring the fact I'm only wearing my black sports bra I unzip Stiles's sweater and show him the gauze. He instantly takes them off, going down on his knees so he can better see them. "They aren't deep."

"I know."

He shakes his head and stands. "You don't understand. If an alpha scratches deep enough, it can change you." He sniffs at me. "You just smell like blood. The alpha's blood, and yours."

"Can't you track the blood?" He shakes his head.

"It's the same as scent. It's different when we're shifted." I nod, and he redresses my wounds. "Do they hurt?"

"No." He narrows his eyes. "A little." Derek leads me to my bed and I lay down. He sits beside my hand, clasping his other hand over the one clutching mine, and I watch as his veins turn black. "What-what are you doing?"

"Taking your pain." I look up at him, awe on my face. "Perk of being a werewolf."

"I thought it was the apparent regenerative healing factor." I whisper.

He shakes his head, amused. "Well, that. And helping the person you care about."

"You care about me?" I ask, becoming more tired as the pain leaves me. Before I close my eyes I hear him say,

_"More than I probably should."_


	8. Lunatic

**Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled ****_Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills_****. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.**

**Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills**** starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way (such as the timeline since that's as messy as the one for the _X-Men_ film franchise), but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.**

**I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.**

**An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in _Just for Kicks_). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into _Scream Queens_ and _The Gifted_ appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all. **

* * *

I wake up to find Derek still sitting beside me, my hand in his. Looking up I realize his eyes are closed but his breathing is too even to be asleep. "I know you're awake." He opens his green eyes and looks down at me. "You stayed?"

"I didn't want you to move in your sleep and hurt yourself." He explains. I smile, sitting up and realizing I'm in the same clothes as the day before. And that I forgot to brush my teeth.

"I'll be right back." I mutter behind my hand and he rolls his eyes, making my way to the attached bathroom.

"Your morning breath is fine." I blush and walk quicker, ignoring his quiet chuckles. After brushing my teeth and relieving myself I take off the bandages. The scratches have already begun to scab over, so I rub some scar ointment I have lying around from the time I hurt my knee and apply it before rejoining Derek in my room.

"Oh, you need a different shirt. Did you go to the house at all?" I ask, rushing over to my cabinet to look for an oversized shirt.

"Only to drop off my car. Then I ran straight here."

"Why?"

"Because the last time you saw me I was being impaled by the alpha and tossed into a brick wall." He answers, as if I could forget.

I nod, then pull out a plain white tee. "This should fit." I turn and find him only a few inches away from me. He takes it with a smile and steps back to pull off his leather jacket and bloody shirt. I blush and turn away when I see his abs, and he coughs when he's finished changing.

"I should go." He tells me. "I know your dad said he was gonna help me, but he can't do much if people figure out I hid here last night."

"No, stay." I argue, crossing my arms. "Wait, how did you know my dad is gonna help you?" He points at his ears. "Oh, right, duh. Still. It's warm here, we have running water, it's safe."

"I won't put you in danger. I can't have you getting hurt again."

"Derek, getting hurt is a part of life." I tell him, and he shakes his head.

"No."

Someone coughs and I turn to see my parents had opened the door, my dad looking unimpressed but my mom amused. "Super hearing my ass." I mutter, and Derek takes a step away from me.

"No, don't move on our account, Hale." My dad barks, and I bite my lip, looking at the floor. "We just came up to tell you school won't be open until Monday. So, did he stay the night?" I shake my head. "Are you lying?"

"That's a possibility." I mutter, then look up at him. "Oh, come on, I thought he was dead! He's my friend!"

My dad raises his eyebrows, my mom laughing to herself. "Friends don't sleep in each others rooms."

"Uh, I sleep over at Stiles and Scott's homes all the time." Derek throws me a look and I shrug. "What?"

"Yeah, but those two are like brothers to you." My dad points out, then glares at Derek. "He isn't."

"No." I grab Derek's hand, looking up at him reassuringly. "He's pack."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" My dad yells.

"Honey, the boys -" We hear running and I close my eyes, groaning.

"Woah!" Clark cries out.

"How'd he get here?" Chase asks, and I open my eyes to look at my dad.

"Evidently, through your sister's window."

Chase and Clark blink up at Derek. Finally, Clark speaks. "Why didn't you use just the door?"

My mom finally lets out a loud laugh, hunching over in giggles. We all watch her, my dad looking like he has no idea what to do. So instead, he looks at me. "This is your fault."

* * *

I sit in between my two brothers, Derek next to Clark and closest to my dad. My mom sits next to her husband and Chase, throwing me looks that tell me I'm pretty much on my own. "These pancakes are great. Mmm. Blueberry." I try to break the tension but my dad only glares and I gulp my bite down. "Right."

"So, Derek. How often do you sneak into my daughter's room?" He asks, and I choke on my coffee. Chase pats my back and my mom shoots my dad a warning look. He catches it. "What? A 20-year-old man visits your 17-year-old daughter at night, and you're okay with this?"

My mom gives him a look. "Might I remind you that I was a 17-year-old girl who let a _21-year-old _man routinely visit her at night?"

I look down a bit, biting my lip in amusement. "What, so this is karma?" My dad asks.

"What's karma?" Clark asks.

"A bitch." Dad says without looking from my mom. She glares harder.

"And what's a bitch?" Chase asks.

My dad looks at him. "Not a word you're going to repeat until you've mastered the English language."

"Ugh." My little brother groans, and I kiss his temple.

My dad looks at Derek. "So?"

He looks at me and I shrug, hoping he understands he should be honest. "Three times."

"Three times?" My dad confirms, and looks at his wife. "He's visited her three times."

"Oh, honestly, Will. You're just pissed that he told her the truth first."

"No, I'm pissed because that's my daughter." He points at me.

"So I'm a disappointment?" I ask, becoming angry, but instead I put on my best pout, eyes tearing up.

He shakes his head. "No, no honey. Of course not. I'm just worried."

"Nice job." Clark whispers to me, and we give each other a high-five under the table.

"Look, I'm not too happy either. But she's almost 18, and I trust her. She's never given me a reason not to." My mom says, and I smile tearfully at her. "Besides, we know Derek. This isn't a stranger." She gently reminds him, and my dad starts to relax.

"Fine." He points his fork at the still-nervous look on Derek's face. "But next time, use the door."

"Yes sir." My mom shakes her head, throwing him a wink.

My dad sighs. "But for now, you're staying here." I look at him in shock, the same as Derek.

"Dad?"

"He needs a place to stay. There's a guest room on your floor. I may not like where it's located, but we need him lay low." My dad looks at Derek again. "You're bigger than last time I saw you. I've got some clothes that'll fit."

"Um, thank you, sir."

"Since when do you call me sir?" My dad asks.

"Thanks, Will."

"Better."

My dad returns to his food, but gets a call. "Hey Noah. No. Yes. A double? Okay. I'll meet you at the school." My dad hangs up and turns to his wife. "Sorry hon, I've got to go."

She smiles. "It's fine, duty calls. Can you drop off the boys?"

"Sure thing." They kiss briefly and then my dad stands, motioning for Double Trouble to follow. "Come on. Time to motor."

"Can you do the sirens?" Chase asks, excitedly picking up his bag and joining Clark in kissing mom goodbye.

"Absolutely not." My dad shakes his head at me, and I laugh to myself. "Alright. Derek, I want you to stay here. Don't leave unless you absolutely have to. It'll make my job easier."

Derek nods. "Of course. Thank you."

"It's like Patty said. You're pack." He holds his shoulder and Derek copies him, something passing between them. Then he turns to me. "You, relax. Okay?"

I nod. "Oh, when do I need to give my statement?"

Dad sighs. "Sooner, rather than later. You can stop by the station around… 1?"

I nod. "Okay. Then I can get the twins. Since both of you have a lot more to deal with.

My dad groans, but nods. "Alright. C'mon, boys. Time to go." My dad tells the boys. The twins quickly hug me then rush out the door, my father taking the time to kiss my forehead before he joins them. I turn to my mom, who smiles at us.

"Well, that went better than expected." She turns to Derek. "I'll go pick out some clothes for you, Derek."

"Thanks, Marissa." She smiles and walks upstairs, leaving the two of us alone.

"You're okay with staying here, right?" I finally ask, biting my lip. "I mean, you don't have to…"

"No, I want to." He interrupts. "As long as you're -"

"Yes." I nod, then blush. He snickers. "Shut up. Of course you can hide out here. It's my fault you're a murder suspect again."

"How?" He asks.

"I should've fought harder. I should've told them they were being stupid, and made up some other story."

"Scott would've still blamed me." Derek growls, and I sigh.

Suddenly my phone rings, and I look over to see it's Stiles. I decline his call, returning to my food. The phone rings again, and I let it go to voicemail. It rings some more, this time it's Scott's landline.

"You can still talk to them, you know."

"No. I'm mad at them. God, how could they be so stupid?"

"Easily, I'm guessing." I glare at Derek. "See, even now you're protective of them."

"It doesn't matter. They know you're innocent, they know you're important to me, and they still decided to blame everything on you."

"I'm important to you?" He asks.

I throw up my arms. "Obviously." I get up and start clearing the table, rinsing the dishes and popping them in the dishwasher. Derek clears his throat.

"I just… I don't want you to lose your friends because of me." He finally admits, handing me his plate.

I sigh. "I'll talk to them. Eventually."

"Okay." He nuzzles my shoulder with his forehead then abruptly stops, straightening. "Sorry, I don't know -"

"It's okay." My phone rings once more, and I pick it up. "Scott, stop calling me. I'm beyond pissed at you."

_"No, it's Allison." _I pause, then look up at the nervous Derek.

"Oh, hi. I'm so sorry, I thought -"

_"I know."_ She lets out a small sob.

"Oh no, what happened?"

_"I told Scott I needed a break. I just, last night… I don't know if I can trust him! I mean I do, but I'm so scared. He locked us in the room!"_ She panics, and I nod. _"He made you upset, and then you got hurt, and he didn't even check to make sure we were okay."_

"I know, I know. I'm mad at him too."

_"Because he said it was Derek."_

"It wasn't Derek."

_"I believe you."_ Derek nods, telling me what Allison just told me is true. _"I was wondering, would it be possible for us to hang out today? School's closed until Monday."_

"Yeah, of course. Um, I'll be free in an hour or so."

_"Great. Meet at my place?"_

Despite Derek shaking his head, I nod. "Of course. I'll text you when I'm on my way. Bye, my love." We hang up and he gives me a look. "What?"

"I can't believe you're going over to see an Argent."

"Can we not fight about this again, please?" I ask, crossing my arms.

He breathes out. "Fine. But you better be careful."

"They can't touch me. I'm a deputy's daughter."

"Somehow, I don't think that matters to them."

* * *

I get in my car, texting Allison. Before I can pull out someone knocks on my passenger door and I look over to see it's Stiles. I roll down the window and stare ahead. "What do you want?"

"I've been calling you. I wanted to see how you're healing."

"I'm fine. The alpha barely scratched me."

"Ricky…" I turn my head to glare at him. "I'm sorry. For helping Scott throw Derek under the bus." I nod. "It was wrong. And stupid, but we panicked."

"Stop." I order, and he does so. "I'm more mad at Scott than I am at you. But it hurt, that you took his side."

He nods. "I know. I'll, uh, let you go. But you should call Scott."

I snort. "Not likely."

"He's miserable. He feels so bad."

"Yeah, Allison asked them to go on a break." He gives me a look. "I'm going over to see her right now."

"But Scott needs you." He tries, and I scoff.

"So you take care of him. He could have said anything - anything. He could've said someone killed the janitor, that some sicko was hunting us down. He could've said we broke into the school because we wanted to prank Harris."

"You could've, too." I look away. "Just… please don't be mad at us for too long. We need you."

"Yeah. I know." I smile at him. "You aren't forgiven, but I'm less pissed. I just need you two to give me some space."

"There's more." I raise an eyebrow. "Scott and I think the alpha wants Scott to get rid of his old pack. Meaning us."

"Okay." I look at Stiles. "We'll talk more Monday."

"Fine. Be careful."

I nod. "You too."

With that I'm driving away from my best friend, still angry but heart calmer. They're idiots, but they're my idiots, you know?

Pulling up into Allison's driveway I lock up my Impala and walk up to the front door, ringing the bell.

A woman with a stern face and short red hair answers, a slight smile on her face. "Hello, dear. Can I help you?"

"I'm Allison's friend, Patricia."

"Oh. I'm her mother, Victoria -"

"Trish!" I hear Alli call, and her mom steps aside so my tall friend can pull me into a hug.

"Hey girl."

She lets go of me immediately. "Oh my God, I almost forgot. How's your side?"

"Still bandaged, but scabbing."

"I'm sorry, what happened to you?" Victoria asks.

I look up at her. "I was hurt last night, at the school."

"That must have been awful."

"I managed to stab whoever it was, but they managed to scratch me. Not deep, so at least I didn't need stitches." I tell her, my eyes screaming out the truth. She nods, her own as narrowed as she figures out what I know.

"Well, it's a good thing you fought."

"Yes. My dad is a deputy, so he wanted to make sure I could defend myself." I explain, and she understands that she can't threaten me without revealing the truth to her daughter.

"Well, you girls have fun. I'm sure your aunt Kate and father will be back from the grocery store soon." I walk into the nice house and Allison leads me up the stairs to her room.

"How're you doing?" I ask, laying down next to her on the bed, our feet dangling off the end.

"I'm just… sad." She looks at me. "I know he's your best friend, and I want to be respectful -"

"Alli." I stop her. "I'm your friend, too, and right now I'm as pissed as you are. We are going to vent, we are going to go out for food, we're gonna get ice cream, and we'll watch a movie."

"Oh thank God." We both break into laughter.

"I do have to go give my statement though, at 1. And pick up my brothers. Would you like to come -"

"Absolutely." She nods, holding my hand. "I know it hasn't been very long, but I've grown really attached to you. I almost lost you last night."

"I know. God, I was so stupid."

She snorts. "And you have a 4.0 GPA." I laugh, then sigh.

"So, talk to me sugar."

She snorts again. "Well, I just feel like he isn't telling me everything. I mean, why were you guys with Derek in the first place?"

"We weren't. Stiles wanted to prank Harris and needed our help." I groan and sit up, legs crossed. "It wasn't Derek. Whoever attacked me -"

"Are you sure you aren't just… in denial?" Allison asks softly, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Yes. Scott and Stiles have a… complicated relationship with Derek. I don't think they would blame him maliciously, but I think he was the first thing that came to mind and they decided to roll with it."

"Even though it hurt you?"

I sigh and look over my shoulder at her. "I don't think they cared."

"You know that isn't true. They love you. You should have seen how panicked they were when you left. Stiles would have joined you if Scott and Jackson hadn't pulled him back. And Scott kept freaking out, every few minutes. He just kept saying you were in trouble, which we all knew, but -"

"Yeah." I sigh. "Yeah, I know. But God forbid anything like that every happens again, I won't leave you guys. Especially since I'm clearly the only reasonable one. Honestly. Barricading a door in a room full of windows." I mutter.

We both tearfully laugh, until a knock on the door interrupts us. "Come in!" Allison shouts, both of us holding our stomachs.

In walks a tall woman with dirty blonde hair, light brown eyes, and a similar lean muscular physique to me and Allison. So that must be Kate Argent. I've got to say, she does look a bit like a stone-cold bitch. She's joined by Chris, who looks stern, but his blue eyes are a little lighter than usual. Even with me around. Maybe his wife told him how I stabbed the alpha.

"And what are you two laughing about?" Chris asks us, mildly amused. Allison and I wink at each other.

"Oh, you know. Promises we hope don't have to be kept."

"No boy gossip?" The woman asks, looking at us with a smirk, but then becomes more focused on me. I narrow my eyes. Derek. She's wondering about Derek.

I shake my head, and snort. I don't trust this woman. I don't like this woman. But I can't approach her with hostility. Especially not when I'm trying to keep Allison safe from the truth. God, I'm doing the same thing my parents did, aren't I? Man, I'm a hypocrite. "Nah, I've sworn off high school boys. I've got college to look forward to."

"Ugh. Lucky. Aunt Kate, this is my best friend Patricia. Trish, this is my aunt Kate."

I smile and stand up, holding out my hand to shake the older woman's. Our grasps are strong and powerful, a CEO's wet dream. "It's so great to finally meet you! Allison's told me all about you!"

She grins back, and it's just as dangerous as mine. More so, actually. She's got this unhinged look to her. Derek's so going to kill me. "You too, Patricia. Thank you for taking such good care of my niece." We drop each other's hands, and Kate keeps smiling. "She told me you're a senior. Off to Beacon University next year?"

I nod. "That's correct."

"She got a full scholarship!" Allison joins us, hugging me proudly.

Kate whistles, and even Chris looks impressed. "A full ride? Where else did you apply?"

"Stanford, Princeton, Harvard, and Oxford. But Beacon is the only one that offered me the full scholarship." I tell them.

"Oxford University? And you got in?" Chris asks. I smile and nod.

"Yeah, but that was more of a dare than me actually really wanting to go. Stiles and Scott were adamant I spread my wings." I roll my eyes at that, my smile a little sad.

"What are you studying? Or are you still figuring it out?" Kate asks, eyes stalking me like I'm prey.

My eyes harden, but my smile stays soft. "Law Enforcement. My dad's a deputy."

Allison nods, taking my hand. "Yeah! And she's a great detective. Lydia told me she's practically Nancy Drew."

"When did she say this?" I ask her, now distracted.

Allison grins. "Oh, the first day I met her. She was telling me… well, everything about everyone. You know Lydia."

I smile. "Yeah. Better than most." We look back at Allison's dad and aunt Kate. "Sorry." We both laugh, and a little bit of the harshness in Kate cracks when she looks at Allison.

"Alright, we've bothered you girls long enough. C'mon, Chris. I know how valuable girl time is." She waves to us and practically tugs her brother out of the room, closing the door behind them.

I turn to Allison and we laugh, again, collapsing onto her bed. "Man, we're weird." I mutter. Allison giggles and nods, the two of us staring up at the ceiling. My cheeks never hurt more from smiling than in that moment with Alli.

* * *

_Giving my statement was the only irritating part of Friday. Having Allison and my dad nearby in the Sheriff's station kept my nerves cool, but I was still figuring out how to keep Derek safe while making sure he remained innocent in my eyes._

_"Can you tell me what happened last night? You may take your time, I need this as detailed as possible." Noah had said. _

_"Okay. Scott, Stiles and I snuck into the school. But somebody else was there, with us. I don't know who, but he killed the janitor. We wanted to call, but we were scared we weren't alone. I… They blamed Derek Hale for what had happened, but that's not true. The man who attacked me in the hall was not Derek Hale. My attacker was much larger, both in height and muscle. It was so dark, I couldn't see what he looked like in terms of facial features or skin tone. All I remember is closing my eyes, and feeling him crouching over me. I heard a weird noise, too, like an animal. A dog, maybe. He may have had a dog. All I know is I stabbed something, then I was scratched in return. I managed to make it back to my friends, and they took care of my wounds."_

_"And you're sure it wasn't Derek Hale who attacked you?" Noah asks me, his eyes hard._

_I nod, hoping he only sees honesty in my blue eyes. "Not a word of a lie. Derek Hale is innocent. He may have been easy to blame, but he wasn't there."_

_Noah had simply nodded. "Thank you, Patrica. You are free to go."_

_And of course, there was Derek's lovely reaction to him smelling Kate Argent's scent as soon as I entered the house. "Tell me you did not talk to her! Tell me she doesn't know who you are?"_

_"Chris already told her, Derek."_

_"Dumbass. You complete dumbass. You could have been hurt! She could have cornered you, and -"_

_"But she didn't! I'm okay. I promise, no one hurt me when I was there. They can't, anyway, not without my dad and mom raining hell on them. Chill."_

_"'Chill'. You want me to 'chill'? Unbelievable." He had stormed off, refusing to talk to me until after dinner._

I sigh as I walk through the halls of the packed school, standing in between Allison and Lydia - the latter of whom frustrated at her parents for not allowing her to join our movie night on Friday. I'd almost taken Allison to my place when we dropped off my brothers - both in love with her, I should add - but then I'd remembered Derek was staying with us indefinitely and silently nixed that idea.

As the bell rings, Allison looks around. "It's just weird. Everybody's talking about what happened Thursday, and nobody knows it was us." I shift my bag and hold my copy of Julius Caesar by Shakespeare close to my chest, my stomach covered by the floral-print dress I'm wearing rather than the cropped shirts I normally wear.

Lydia scoffs. "Thank you, for the protection of minors."

"Lydia, do you think I made the wrong decision?" Allison asks.

"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely."

I snort. "Lyds, you know what she meant. And I told you, Alli, your feelings matter, too. Scott messed up. Big time."

"She's right." Lydia points out. "Hellooo. Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead." Not really, but that's valid reasoning for them since they don't know what really went down. How the attacker wasn't human, and neither is Scott. As pissed as I am, I know him well enough to understand he was protecting us. Probably from himself. "He's lucky we're not pressing charges, or making him pay our therapy bills."

I nod. "I should probably sign up for that, by the way. Therapy."

"You mean you haven't already?" Lydia asks, disappointment written all over her face. "You should. You were attacked, you could have died."

I nod and take her hand, stopping the three of us and squeezing the limb. "I know. And I'm sorry for scaring you. I promise I'll see someone."

"Fine." She straightens, popular girl look back in place. "Allison and I have class. Are you going home after AP Lit."

I nod, thinking about Derek off by himself in my house. "Yeah. Our night at school made me appreciate hanging out at home more."

"Here, here. Bye, Trish."

"Kisses, Tricia." Allison and Lydia wave and walk away from me. I sigh and put my hand on the doorknob to my AP Literature classroom, and the smell of blood takes over my nose. I can smell the alpha's rank, hot breath. I can feel his fur over my body, his sharp claws scratching my side.

Someone clears their throat and I open the door, letting the guy behind me - John - pass, who simply gives me a concerned look.

I know I only have to be here for a couple of hours, but it's going to be a long day.

* * *

I groan as I enter my car, head banging against the steering wheel. Today was the worst. Classes were fine, that wasn't the issue. It was the constant gossiping about what had happened, and classmates attempting to get my input because apparently what I say matters. Look, I'm popular. I'm valedictorian, I peer tutored almost everyone in my class. I dated a few Lacrosse players, I once punched a then-upperclassman in the face for attempting to sexually assault his classmate. But it's irritating. I don't like attention. I just like the people I'm close friends with, and two of them have been complete royal dicks lately.

So with a heavy sigh I start my car and pull away from the school, not even bothering to turn on the music as nothing can distract me.

I park my car, noticing my mom's is missing. Right. She has to be at the office now, all the time, just like my dad, because Scott and Stiles couldn't just blame something else on what happened, rather than Derek. Because of them, and because I didn't fight harder, my parents are now overworking themselves even more. At least my mom can bring the twins to her office though, since there's a room just for the employee's kids.

That just means I get the house to myself, again. Well, Derek and I.

Making sure to lock the door, I stalk over to the bowl of fruit and grab an apple, aggressively biting into it as I hop up onto the counter. The curtains are open but the blinds are closed throughout the house, to keep Derek from being seen and then recognized by my nosy neighbors.

Speaking of the newest Abernathy Home resident, Derek walks into the kitchen and snorts when he sees me attacking my apple. "Long day?" He sarcastically quips, as though he hasn't basically been trapped in here the past three days.

"The longest. Everyone wanted to know my opinion about that night, never mind the fact they don't know I was involved. It was all, 'Patricia, what do you think?'. 'Patricia, what would you have done?'. 'Patricia, we should try to spend the night at the school, last longer than those losers. Really get to know each other.'" I blush at the last sentence, Derek raising an eyebrow. His facial expression is blank, but his eyes are amused. "That was my ex, Greenberg."

"You dated a guy named 'Greenberg'?"

"No." I pout. "I dated a guy named 'Dale Greenberg'." Derek's face remains blank for a few moments, until he snorts. The snort becomes a chuckle, which soon becomes a full-bellied laugh. I look at him like I'm seeing a stranger. "Did I break you?"

"You… you dated a Dale?"

"Wow." I mutter, and he coughs, settling down a bit, a little confused.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just… I didn't think you knew how to laugh." He smiles shyly and glances down before looking at me, a new calmness around us.

"Well, you were clearly wrong."

I blush too, then jump down, passing by him to grab my book and head towards the stairs. "Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything."

"Okay, you've definitely been wrong more than once."

I roll my eyes but don't look back, Derek making no effort to mask his footsteps, probably so he doesn't freak me out. "Nope. Never. I'm always right."

"Yes, except for when you decide to angrily storm away from your friends and fight an alpha." I stop and turn my head to look down at him, and he raises his thick eyebrow at me once more.

I roll my eyes and keep walking. "Technically that's your fault. And Stiles and Scott's."

"Excuse me?" He asks, though the offended tone isn't harsh. "I was impaled by the alpha, in case you don't remember. How can this be my fault?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget." I mutter, stepping onto the landing of my floor, and for a moment it slips my mind that he can hear me.

"Patricia." He says, taking my elbow in his large hand and stopping me from moving, instead turning my body to face his. Even though he's standing on the second-to-last step, he's still taller than me. "Hey." His voice is soft, just like in the kitchen. Any joking tone is gone. "I'm sorry. I know."

"I thought you were dead. And my best friend - friends - blamed everything about that night on you. Because they thought you were dead, and you being dead meant the lie was easier. People would have thought you were a murderer. And I… I didn't even stop them. I was just so angry. So I… I reacted."

He walks up the rest of the steps and backs me up near the window by the staircase. His hands move onto my waist and he looks into my eyes. "You shouldn't let me affect you like that. I can't… you can't go putting yourself in danger just because you're angry I got hurt, or -"

"Died. I thought you died."

"I'm not worth it."

I scoff and step away from him, finishing my apple as I walk towards my room, Derek following me. "I think you are. My parents think you are. People are still around to care about you, Hale. You aren't alone."

"I guess not." He mutters, awkwardly standing in the doorway of my room. I toss the core into my trash can then jump onto my bed, crossing my legs under me after removing my shoes as carelessly as possible.

"So yeah, I shouldn't have run off. But I'd do it again if I meant I could stab that ass again for what he almost did to you." I look away angrily. "I know we haven't known each other very long, but… ever since I found out about the truth, about our families… it's easy for me to be protective of you." I admit. "And that scares me, Derek."

"Hey, it scares me too." I look up at him, and he walks over to sit next to me on the bed. "For five years, it was just me and Laura. Now Laura's dead, just like the rest of my family. And I thought I was alone, until I met you. So do me a favor, and don't go looking for trouble."

"I promise."

He snorts, and takes my hand. "I can hear you lying."

I smile down at our entwined limbs. "It was worth a shot."

* * *

Derek had left an hour earlier to go on patrol in the Preserve, not wanting his home completely in danger. The sky has started to get dark, and the moonlight pours into my room.

_Moonlight._

With a gasp I jump off from my bed, jostling the papers around me. Pulling up the blinds I see the full moon shining, surrounded by stars. Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

Hearing a door slam I look down to see Stiles rushing out of his house with a duffle bag. No matter how angry I am, I can't let him take care of Scott alone. So I grab my phone, slip on my combat boots and rush down the stairs in my exercise shorts and cropped Guns 'n Roses tee shirt, phone and keys bouncing around in my pockets.

I hurriedly lock the door and run across the street, waving my arms in front of the Jeep to stop Stiles. It jerks and he pokes his head out, confused.

"Ricky, what -"

"I'm still pissed. But I'm not letting you take care of Scott alone." He nods, and I rush into the car. After buckling in and watching him peel out into the street, I realize something. There's this burning anger in his eyes. There's a sadness there, too, but… I've known Stiles his whole life. I can read his emotions like a pro. And he looks betrayed. "What's wrong."

He snorts in disbelief. "'What's wrong?'. I'll tell you what's wrong. My best friend has ignored me for four days. Which, yeah, was my own doing, but still. I miss her like crazy, as she's the only sane person. Because - get this - my other best friend decided to let his time of the month get to him and made out with the girl I've loved for years! So yeah, a lot has gone wrong recently!" He shouts, and I jump at the volume, my mind flashing back to the memory of the alpha above me.

"Scott kissed Lydia?" I ask. "Did you -"

"No." He harshly growls. "I didn't see it happen. But I'm not an idiot. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but John Watson's a brilliant detective, too."

"I never said you weren't. I just… God, Scott's turning into a dick."

Stiles snorts, and we look at each other. Moments later, we start to laugh. "Yeah, he really is. And we thought him going through puberty was rough!"

"I mean, it's only one day every month! It's not like he's on his period." I tell Stiles, who laughs harder. "Hey. I missed you."

"Missed you, too. I'm sorry, for Thursday. You were hurting, and we made it worse. Are you -"

"I'm fine. Well, except for the nightmares about the alpha and constantly seeing Derek almost being killed everytime I look at him."

"Hang on. How often have you been seeing Derek?" Stiles asks me, breaking at the stop light. I smile innocently. "You're harboring a fugitive? Do your parents know?"

I nod. "It was their idea. I mean, they've known Derek since he was born. And like I said, the Abernathy family has been in the Hale pack since my great-grandmother Diane."

He steps on the gas and keeps driving towards Scott's house. "So, if the Hale fire hadn't happened, would you have joined the pack too? Officially, I mean. Since you were technically in it already, you just didn't know. Like, we've gotta assume your parents would have introduced you to the life. Especially since that lion-man gene runs in your family. I looked into that, by the way, and there's really nothing there. How's the journal coming along?" He rambles.

I smile, though. "The journal… well, the first hundred entries are written in Swabian. Then they become a rough English. So, translating has been fun. So far, I only know that an ancestor of mine - Berengar - said that the myth the villagers believed was wrong. Löwenmensch aren't werelions. We're werewolf/werelion hybrids. The first of our kind was the product of the union between each species, a gene that managed to be passed down until it became dormant."

"Did your great-grandmother say why it stopped with her? I mean, you know, stopped being active?"

I shake my head. "No. That's the biggest mystery."

"Well, it's one we'll solve. As soon as we stop Scott from killing anyone tonight." I laugh and Stiles parks in front of the McCall house. We carefully get out of the car and Stiles opens the door with the key he managed to copy. Well, both of us did, but mine is at home. Crap, I didn't leave a note for Derek, and it's not like I can text him since he's a fugitive.

As we quietly enter the house and close the door behind us, Melissa McCall - Scott's beautiful mother who deserves only the best in life - comes into view, dressed in her scrubs. "Scott?" She asks, then stops when she sees us standing at the front door.

"Stiles." My best friend chuckles awkwardly. I raise my hand in a wave.

"Patricia."

"Scott isn't home, so how did you… key." She points to the item in Stiles's hand, answering her unfinished question, and he nods.

"Yeah, I had one made. Well, we both did, so…" I grin innocently at Melissa, who sighs.

"That doesn't surprise me. It scares me, but, it doesn't surprise me." She looks at me and smiles. "You, I trust." I laugh at the wounded noise Stiles makes and wraps the older woman in a hug. "Gosh, it's been forever, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." I apologize. "I'll bring you food on your next shift, okay?"

"Ooh, I'm going to hold you to that." The sound of metal clanking makes us break apart, and I see that Stiles has dropped the duffle bag onto the floor. "What is that?" She asks.

"Uh, school project."

Melissa nods, but obviously doesn't believe him. But, since he's Stiles Stilinski, she doesn't question it further. "Mmm." Then she sighs. "Hey, he's okay, right?"

"Who, Scott?" Stiles asks in return. "Yeah. Totally."

Melissa looks at me, and I give her a sad smile. "He and Allison are just going through a rough patch. But we're gonna take care of him."

"He just doesn't talk to me that much anymore. Not like he used to." She admits sadly.

I bite my lip, realizing just how lucky I am that my parents were the one to know the truth before me. That the only people who don't know the "big supernatural secret" are my little brothers.

"It's just been a bit of a tough week." Stiles attempts to soothe her, and it surprisingly works.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Yeah, um… okay. Be careful tonight." She peeks into her bag to search for her keys.

"You, too." Stiles awkwardly tells her, and I look skyward.

"Full moon."

That has us both looking at her in shock. "What?"

"Huh?" Stiles and I ask. Does she know something.

We both sigh in relief, quietly, when she just shakes her head in amusement. "There's a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs."

"Right." Stiles nods, and she steps passed him, briefly stopping to tell us,

"You know, it's um, actually where they came up with the word 'lunatic'." As soon as she closes the door we rush up the stairs, with me taking the lead and slamming open Scott's bedroom door, only for Stiles and I to jump back and shout in surprise.

Scott is sitting on his cushioned armchair by the window, staring up at us with murder eyes. "Oh my God!" Stiles shouts, dropping the duffle. "Dude, you scared the hell out of us."

"Why are you sitting there like some kind of bond villain, Lestrade?" I ask, but Scott only glares at me harder. "Right. Okay. Rough full moon? Need some Midol? Ginger tea? That always helps me when it's my time of the month." Stiles nudges me and I stop talking.

"Your mom said you weren't home yet." Stiles tells our best friend, who doesn't even blink.

"I came in through the window."

"Okay." As Stiles approaches Scott I kick the bag towards the two boys. "Uh, well, let's get this set up. I want you to see what I bought." He crouches down to open the bag, but Scott remains where he is.

"I'm fine." We look at him. "I'm just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight."

"You sure about that? 'Cause you've got this kind of serial killer look going on in your eyes, and I'm hoping it's the full moon, taking effect, 'cause it's really starting to freak me out." Stiles admits, and I nod with him.

"Scott, let us help you."

He looks at me, only coldness in his eyes. "You want to help me? You've left us on our own since that night. Still sad about your 'boyfriend'? Still care more about him than me?" He asks.

I shake my head. "I care for you both. In different ways. Scott, you're my little brother, and you made me upset. But it's okay. Let me be here for you."

"Well, I'm fine. You should go now."

"Alright, we'll leave." Stiles starts to stand up, but stops himself. "Well, would you at least look in the bag and see what I bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don't. Sound good?"

I carefully watch Scott get up from the armchair, hoping Stiles knows what he's doing, because I honestly don't. With how messed up in the head Scott is right now, I don't want to get too close. He harbors the most anger towards me, right now. I'm not eager to be scratched by a werewolf. Again.

Scott crouches down in front of the bag and pulls up a heavy chain. "You think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?"

From the corner of my eye, I see Stiles putting a hand in his jacket pocket. "Actually, no." Stiles says, as Scott puts the chain back down. Then, quicker than I've ever seen him move, Stiles shoves our best friend into the radiator and clicks something into place. He moves back and I look on in awe when I see he managed to catch the werewolf off guard and handcuff him to the heater.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Scott yells, tugging at the cuff.

"Protecting you from yourself and giving you some payback… for making out with Lydia."

* * *

I lean against the open doorway of Scott's room, watching him as he tries to get out. Stiles returns, waving an open bottle. "I brought you some water." I close my eyes when I see him also hold up a dog bowl with "**SCOTT**" written around it.

God, this isn't going to end well.

I hear him pouring the water in the bowl before walking towards Scott, presumably to set it down in front of him.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Scott shouts, and I open my eyes right as he throws the bowl at Stiles back, it's contents unfortunately spilling onto me. Great.

"You kissed her, Scott. Okay?!" Stiles yells, turning around. "You kissed Lydia. That's like, the one girl that I eve-" He stops himself, and I straighten to put my hand on his shoulder. "And you know, the past three hours I've been thinking, 'It's probably just the full moon. He doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been.' A son of a bitch, a freaking unbelievable piece of crap friend!"

"She kissed me." Scott says, and I blink. Lydia initiated it? The same Lydia who was telling Allison and I only this morning that Scott's lucky she didn't press charges? The same Lydia who I know loves Jackson, even if the world thinks it isn't true?

I look at Stiles and his hunched shoulders, and step in front of him. There's no way my small frame can block Scott's view of him, but the point is I'm protecting my best friend. But Scott just continues. "Yeah, she kissed me. And she would have done more, too. You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me." I hear Stiles walking away, but stand where I am, arms crossed. "She would have done anything I wanted."

"Shut. Up." I growl, having nothing but anger in my heart towards the stranger in front of me. That isn't Scott. That's not my best friend. This is a lunatic. "When this is all over, Scott McCall, you're going to feel like shit."

I walk out the door, only to hear him yell, "You coward!" It echoes through the night, but I simply roll my eyes. Staring at the hunched over Stiles, I slide down into a sitting position and bring his head to my shoulder, wrapping an arm around his back as his arms shake.

We listen quietly as Scott grunts and moans in his room. I briefly pull out my phone to text Lydia a simple **We need to talk.**

After a few more minutes of Stiles leaning against me he sits back up, and instead lets me rest my head on his shoulder, one of my legs crossed over his. "This sucks." I mumble.

"Yeah. We never should have looked for that body."

I sigh. "No. We never should have left him behind."

"Stiles… Pat… please let me out." Scott quietly begs. "It's the full moon, I swear." I close my eyes and take Stiles's hand, the two of us squeezing harder than that time we went through the Sheriff Station's Haunted House and a clown drenched in blood popped out at us. "You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose. Please, guys, let me out. It's starting to hurt." I close my eyes. "It's not like the first time. It's the full moon. It's Allison, breaking up with me. I know… that it's not just taking a break. She broke up with me. And it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless." A tear slides down my cheek. "Just please, let me out."

"We can't." I whisper, knowing he can hear me. "I'm sorry. But we can't."

There's silence, and then my heart breaks. Scott begins to whimper. "No, no, no." Then he howls, wolfing out, and the roar is near deafening as Stiles and I let go of each other's hands to cover our ears, trying and failing to block out the pained noise.

The screaming continues and I curl in tighter. _Stop, stop, stop,_ I beg silently. _Please let it stop._

Then, it does. Stiles and I drop our hands and look at each other in shock before scrambling onto our feet. "Scott, are you okay?" He asks, stepping ahead of me into the room. "Crap."

"What?" I ask, and when Stiles steps aside I get my answer.

Scott is gone, his window open, and a pair of bloodied, broken handcuffs lies on the floor.

"We should have used the chains." I mutter, only for Stiles to grab my hand and yank me out of the room and down the stairs. "What are we -"

"We have to find him!" He yells, and we leave the house, Stiles tossing me the key so I can lock it behind me. Then we run into his Jeep and pull away from the McCall residence. All I can hope is that we get to Scott before he hurts someone. No, not just "someone." Allison.

As Stiles drives I press my dad's number again, hoping he picks up. Voicemail, again.

"Dad, it's me. For the tenth time. Listen, Scott's wolfed out right now. Allison isn't answering her phone, and I need to know if she's safe. Please, it's important." I hang up.

"Try Allison again." Stiles urges, but I'm already on it.

After ringing a few times, I breathe out a sigh of relief when I hear Allison pick up. _"Trish?"_

"Hey!" I nearly shout, then even out my tone. She's breathing a little heavily. "What happened?"

_"I-I'm with Jackson right now. Something jumped on top of the car, but then it was knocked off. And I don't know what's going on!"_

"Why are you with Jackson?" I ask, Stiles rolling his eyes at the name.

_"Ran into him. What's with all the missed calls?"_

"Chalk it up to me trying to check in on you." I tell her. "Hey, can you put Jackson on the phone?"

_"Sure?" _I hear her companion take the phone.

_"You okay?"_ He asks me.

I blink. "Yeah, fine. You're the one who almost got attacked."

_"It's our fault for parking so close to the woods."_ The woods, Scott's headed to the Preserve. _"Why did you need to talk to me?"_

"Jackson, I need you to take Allison home. Get her to her house right now."

_"Why?"_

"Just do it!" I shout, hanging up and leaning my head back against the headrest. Stiles makes a turn, only for us to see an ambulance and the Sheriff's Department just ahead, a body covered in a sheet being wheeled away.

"No, no, no, no, no." Stiles mutters, slamming on the break. He turns off the engine and we both jump out of the car, running towards the officers. "Dad?" Stiles turns one man around, only to realize it's Deputy Allen.

I spin slowly. "Dad?!" I shout, looking for him desperately. God, what if Scott hurt him? My fear only escalates when I see the ambulance has two bodies on board, both deceased. What if he killed them both, when he realized he couldn't get Allison?

"Has anyone seen our dads?" Stiles pleads, and follows me as I stumble to one of the bodies, only to turn into his chest when I see an arm burned beyond recognition. What the hell happened?

"Stiles, what are you two doing here?"

"Patricia?!" Noah and my dad cry out, and I begin to tear up in relief. Stepping away from Stiles I practically jump into my father's arms, my whole body shaking. "Kid, what's wrong?" He hugs me back, tightly.

"Everything, daddy. Everything's wrong." I mutter, and close my eyes.

* * *

I lie curled up on my bed, my covers pulled under my chin and my bathroom door opened just a crack, the night-light turned on to keep me from bumping into anything in the dark. My curtains are closed, and my whole body is sore from crying. My dad had to return to work after dropping me off, and apparently it was still early in the evening because my mom wasn't home yet. I don't know where Derek is, either. God, what if the hunters found him?

My answer comes in the form of my door opening. The soft light from the hallway illuminates Derek's form, and the light from the bathroom shows the worry on his face. "Scott told me what happened. Are you okay?"

"Scott?" I ask, whispering, my voice hoarse. "He's okay?"

"Mad at himself, and angry for putting you and Stiles through that, but… he's alive. And so is Allison."

"I know. Managed to call her." I sniffle and close my eyes. "If that's all, I'd like to go to bed now. School tomorrow. Please, just go." He starts to walk away, but right as the door is closing it suddenly stops.

"No." I open my eyes and sit up a bit, watching Derek turn around and walk back towards me, the door slightly ajar. "I'm not going anywhere."

I sigh and settle back into my bed, moving over to give him some room. Thank God it's a queen-sized mattress, or else he'd never fit. "Fine. But if my dad comes in, I'm blaming you."

"That's fair." He mumbles, and I hear him removing his shoes and jacket before he rolls on top of the covers. His body keeps moving, until he's a few breaths away from being pressed against my back. One of his arms hesitantly wraps around my waist. "Is this okay?"

I don't answer. I just smile and move my head deeper into my fluffy pillow, letting my heartbeat tell him how I feel.


	9. AN

**Hey y'all!**

**Let me start off by saying that no, this isn't going to be discontinued. I have a lot of fics I'm trying to get back into, with this being one of them since it's been so long. **

**I will be going back and re-editing. Again. For, like, the fifth time. Then I'll post new chapters. Pinky swear this time. Just want to make sure everything's cleaned up, because a year's passed since I did my prevision revisions and my style has changed since then. I hope you stick with me!**

**XOXO Charmedlion22**


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